Playtime
by KLMeri
Summary: AU. Fun times ensue at Little Star Academy and Pike begins to realize that while he may be the adult, he's definitely not the one in charge. - COMPLETE
1. Prologue

**Title: **Playtime

**Author: **klmeri

**Fandom: **Star Trek AOS

**Characters: **Various

**Disclaimer: **So not mine, just my rabid plot bunny.

**Summary: **AU. Fun times ensue at Little Star Academy. Pike begins to realize that while he may be the adult, he's definitely not the one in charge.

* * *

**Teaser/Prologue**

* * *

_Leonard and Spock are going to be best friends. That's what Jimmy tells them with an exuberant glee. Leonard is disgusted—his small face pinched; Spock is indifferent and continues to ignore both Humans. Yes, Jimmy explains, they are all going to the very best of friends. It's only a matter of teaching the other two reluctant little boys the true meaning of fun._

* * *

Jimmy is a rambunctious four and a half-year old with no common sense but a precocity that terrifies Winona Kirk. His mother, a single parent, is returning to school herself and relies on the honesty of her friends to recommend a reputable place where she can enroll her son and expect that he'll get not only have an eye on him all day but might learn to behave better (she doesn't use the term _properly_ because that's a lost cause by now). Though whether any of the staff will be able to keep up with little James T. Kirk is a guess at best.

Spock is eight years of age but small in stature due to the Vulcan half of his genes; he has a budding aptitude for math and an articulation that no Terran eight-year-old child would possess. His mother considers Spock's participation in "pre-school" to be a learning experience; if Spock's father disapproves, the Vulcan obviously lost this particular battle to his wife. Perhaps Spock should be in third grade doing multiplication, at the very least, but alas he is not.

Leonard (Lenny to most) is six years old and late to start his schooling. He complains and cries from the security of his happy home all the way to the tiny building labeled Little Star Academy ("…where we make stars of your children!"). When unstrapped from his seat, he indulges in a fierce kicking fit until his father hoists him up around the middle and plops his raging child's body into the waiting teacher's capable arms. The teacher/under-paid babysitter pats Leonard on his back, soothing his despondency, and releases him into the cluster of bouncing (or sniveling) kids.

* * *

Said teacher wants to introduce himself and his assistant but that requires, first, for eager little faces to be pointed in his direction and, secondly, the difficult task of making them pay attention at the same time. His name is Mr. Pike, and he has another ten years before his monthly retirement check begins to arrive. This year's crop of children will either remind him why he loves his job or be the death of him.

His assistant is a shapely young woman by the name of Miss Janice Rand. She loves children as much as he does and fortunately (or is it unfortunately?) still retains a naivety and optimism that the two adults will make it through the first day of "child care" without incident. Obviously she is already smitten by the Kirk-toddler's spell-binding blue eyes. Pike sees those baby-blues, how they twinkle, and feels a _whimper-cringe_ on the inside. Faced with Kirk's mother, he keeps his reassuring smile in place, even as the boy wiggles loose and dashes off across the room yelling at the top of his lungs. Poor Winona Kirk is the picture of a haggard, loving mother. (Pike secretly thinks she is more beautiful with smudges under her eyes.)

It takes a total of fifteen long minutes to locate and round up all the children. There is a round-faced child hiding behind one of the cubby-holed shelves, one grubby fist full of broken cookies from a pilfered box that should have been locked away high in a cupboard. Pike does not scold this Scotty, merely tells him that cookies are treats for good boys, and sends him toddling towards the others. If the adult spends a random moment or two attempting to figure out how the kid stole the box in the first place, he'll admit it to no one.

Then there's Jimmy Kirk who is making a girl named Nyota very mad because he won't stop pulling on her pigtails. And apparently Jimmy thinks she hits like a girl—until, that is, she knocks him sideways into a set of blocks. By the time Rand arrives to break up the brewing fight, Jimmy is pouting over his _owwies_, Nyota is throwing foam bricks at his head, and little Pavel is wailing pretty loudly because his tower (high-rise, the child calls it, which disturbs Pike) has been demolished by flying bodies.

So everybody is tugged to, ordered on, and generally pushed in the vicinity of the center rug. Pike is starting to sweat and it's only been thirty minutes since the parents left behind their most precious gifts. At least, Pike thinks gratefully, the Spock child is obedient to adults. That one will have to be the shining example for all the rest to follow.

Mr. Pike clears his throat. When that does not work, he booms "Good morning!" in a gratingly cheerful manner that has Janice covering her mouth to hide a smile.

Dead silence, except for one.

"Hiya!"

So little Jimmy isn't shy. That figures.

He clears his throat again and says slowly, for the benefit of all present, "When a person tells you 'Good morning,' it is polite to say 'good morning' in return." The first lesson; the same one for the last fifteen years.

He speaks again in a normal tone. "Good morning!"

There is a smattering of mumbled and lisped replies, ranging from the proper "Good morning, Sir." (Good boy, that Spock) to "I want my _daddy!_" or "Stranger! Stranger!"

He doesn't know who announced the last one. He suspects it might be the high-pitched voice of the little girl named Christine. Parents begin warning their children of dangers rather early these days.

"My name is Mr. Pike. Welcome to Little Star Academy. I am your teacher." He leans in, lowers his voice enticingly to the thrill of several bright eyes. "And more importantly, I am your friend."

He is prepared for the skepticism, the hostility and instant dislike. He accepts the innocent trust, too, that some children easily give. In all his years of teaching and caring for young children, Christopher Pike has experienced and dealt with a myriad of emotions and temperaments. He is considered by some knowledgeable people to be an expert.

There is a break in his expectations. Amidst a sea of seated children, one small body intently scrambles from knees to feet. With a (foretelling) confident bounce of his blond-haired head, Jimmy points a tiny finger (like the scepter of a god) and pronounces—

"'N I'm your capt'n!"

Pike can only stare at Jimmy, who stares back without fear. Eventually he gathers his wits enough to reply, "You'll have to earn that captaincy, little man."

Those eyes answer his challenge with a gleam, and Pike's stomach does a somersault. He has a sneaking suspicion he will learn exactly why Ms. Kirk's exiting "Good luck" was so heartfelt. Because this one? Yes, this one definitely plans on pushing Mr. Christopher Pike straight past early retirement and directly into the grave.

* * *

**No clue if this is going anywhere, but the idea entertains me immensely!**


	2. Part Two

**Part Two**

* * *

The first day goes rather well; introductions are tedious as expected. One child—little Mr. McCoy—informs his classmates in response to "Tell us your name."—

"Lenny and I hate ya'll."

James T. Kirk says his full name, complete with a slowly pronounced _Ti-bear-ee-us_ (which makes Rand go all soft-eyed), then states that he likes running, eating, jumping, cookies, the color blue, ice cream but not the yucky kind, starships, orange juice, climbing trees, his mommy—

Pike shuts the kid up because the attention span of his audience started to wane drastically once no one could decipher the jumble of words after his name.

Everyone else fidgets or Pike has to coax them to speak out loud. Scotty (why his parents nicknamed him after his last name is beyond Mr. Pike) won't talk at all, merely blushes bright red while his eyes dart for an escape route. Pike has to introduce the child himself.

He persuades his troopers to spend the next hour coloring pictures of their favorite things because he needs a breather in which to plan the rest of the day. (The lesson plans he had carefully created in his first year never seem to work via real-world application; it's too perfect and the rest of the world is not. But he hopes on, hopes ever.) For now they have crayon; paints and chalk will come later, once they are instilled with an understanding of "why we don't leave messes for others to clean up." Finger painting, in particular, is a beloved activity, but it has to be earned. They'll catch on soon enough, he knows.

Only one fight (name-calling argument) breaks out during snack-time. That it's over vanilla versus chocolate pudding is another matter entirely. Despite that the children are very newly acquainted with one another, Jimmy Kirk manages to align the group into two factions. His side of the table thinks chocolate pudding is delicious and vanilla is icky; it's vice versa across the table. The leader of the other side is, surprisingly, little Pavel Chekov. Pavel says, adorably, "I wike wanilla!" and cannot be persuaded that chocolate has any standing at all in the world of desserts. That wins all the little girls to his cause, but Pike suspects it has less to do with the goodness of vanilla and more to do with the fact that Pavel looks like a baby doll with a cherub face. (Pike plans to keep an eye on him in the near future, just in case the girls play house and he ends up in a dress.)

The Chekov child is the youngest of everyone, at the innocent age of four years old. His motor skills are finely developed (unnervingly so) for his age, and his parents are rather famous scientists which leads Pike to believe that there may have been a bit of genetic bio-engineering involved in their son's conception. But it's not Pike's place to judge the parents; it's his responsibility to care for their child from the hours from 0700 to 1800 during weekdays.

Interestingly enough, there is one adamant non-participant: Spock. Spock, of course, is forbidden to have chocolate. Amanda Grayson was very agreeable in providing Pike with all the information he needed to properly care for her physiologically unique son. That does not preclude or account for the ways of a certain mischievous toddler, however. Pike turned his back once and Kirk was trying to coax the baby Vulcan to taste his chocolate-covered finger. Luckily, Spock found this display as disgusting as the giggling Christine and stubbornly maintained a three-foot distance from the bright-eyed Terran boy at all times.

_Pike wiped off Jimmy's hand, told him, "No, Jimmy. Chocolate will upset Spock's stomach."_

_Wide blue eyes assessed his words for truth, then turned to the Vulcan and grew wider. "Weally?"_

"_Mmhmm. We don't want to make Spock sick, now do we, son?"_

_Kirk had stared at him for a silent moment before he remembered that he should answer. So his blond head shook vigorously in the negative. _

"_Good boy."_

Jimmy seems to understand and has not attempted to persuade Spock to join his crew of chocolate pudding-teers again. (A small favor, really, in a long day.)

Chekov had no better luck recruiting the Vulcan to the loveliness of vanilla. Spock detests pudding, apparently, in any form and immediately removed himself from the fray—to the end of the long table.

So the first day journeyed from a lively morning to nap-time without a full-blown disaster. Nap-time, Pike explained carefully to all his little ones, is the most important part of the day. Their bodies need plenty of rest so that they can grow up to be strong adults. It's always appropriate, in his experience, that the first few nap-times must be presented as "fun" and "that special time" to a bunch of rowdy children; eventually they'll be coaxed to settle down, if only because running in circles for hours has to tire them out sooner rather than later. (Kirk insists that he can run in more circles than anybody else; Pike believes him, gets dizzy watching him do so.)

Unfortunately, naps are universally hated by all. Even Spock insists that he finds "this nocturnal activity to be illogical during daylight hours." (Pike is still getting used to having a child that doesn't quite reach his shins talk like a well-educated adult.)

"_I understand, Spock, that you do not require naps as a Terran child does." Pike explained carefully in a soft voice, "But if you refuse, then all the others will too. I need your cooperation, at least until your classmates fall asleep." He vaguely wondered if bribery would offend the boy._

Spock, thankfully, is agreeable to "present the illusion of 'napping' for the sake of establishing order."

The teacher conveniently forgets (does not embarrass Spock) that the small Vulcan does indeed fall asleep for twenty minutes after he curls onto his side and closes his eyes. When Janice points out that Vulcans are adorable when they sleep, Chris corrects her. _Half_-Vulcans are adorable, especially when one naps with a thumb stuck in his mouth.

Pike is co-owner of Little Star Academy, and the only owner in residence who works closely with their "clients." Little Star Academy is not just a daycare-educational center for young children; it is one of the few places in San Francisco that does not exclude different species. Granted, most off-worlders tend to keep their children close to them on Earth, but there shall always be the few who do not have the resources (or distrust the Embassy) to care for their loved ones. It's still rare that Little Star Academy has non-Terran children enrolled; Pike can count on both hands from memory each child that was not of full Terran descent. It is even more rare that he has two at the same time. This year poses to be a special one, because Pike will be caring for the half-Vulcan Spock and the Orion beauty Galia. Spock, of course, is currently present—though still isolated from the others by choice (a habit Pike plans to break). Galia is not due for two more days. That shall be interesting because the majority of these children have not been purposefully exposed to other races. It's only a matter of time before one of them notices that Spock's ears are not round. That difference remains subtle, due to his young age, because the points are very tiny and almost hidden by crops of black hair. Galia, on the other hand, has lovely green skin. Pike knows he will have his hands full then.

He takes pride that he can influence these children in the ways of acceptance and tolerance. He hopes that, years down the road, even if they do not remember specifically or vividly this early childhood lesson, its message will linger with them subconsciously. He firmly believes that all creatures of the universe are equal, and if tolerance is to be learned, it should be from the beginning and not towards the end.

* * *

After nap-time comes Play-Time. Generally, this is in the form of a playground suitable for very small children. That is, no piece of equipment is too high or too dangerous—though Pike knows all too well how a safe object can become dangerous due to carelessness. With this in mind, he and Rand never leave the children to play unsupervised. Pike especially has his eye on that blond-haired one, because the kid flies around the yard like he has booster rockets attached. And Jimmy has no qualms about poking his curious head into other children's games. On this first day, he is the sole child that seems comfortable wherever he happens to be.

Tomorrow, partnering begins. Pike will spend the rest of his night thinking over the list of children he has met today and then decide who to partner with whom for the rest of the week. After that first careful pairing, the weeks thereafter will be of pairings randomly drawn from a big black top hat. As he watches the children idle around, cautiously exploring their new playground, he notes those which seem most afraid and those (like Jimmy) which have no fear of the unknown. (The days ahead will be interesting.)

When he catches Janice's eye, as she brushes sand off Nyota's knees and straightens her dress, the young woman smiles back. It's good to have an assistant that enjoys more than a steady paycheck. Miss Rand is fresh from a local college, but he went with his instinct after the first two interviews and hired her. And his instincts still hum true; that pleases him.

* * *

The day wears down and the little ones have just about reached their grumpy stage of "where's my mommy?" It's instinctive, really, for those who have an inkling of their parents' work schedules. Pike soothes them as best as he can, keeping them occupied in the last hour. Janice slips out the door at the appointed time. The children remain gathered at round tables, attempting to entertain themselves with various toys or crayons and paper.

There's the first cry of "Mama!" and so it begins. Curious heads turn as a dark-haired little boy pitches himself from a table and into his mother's skirt. Pike ends up, as always, dividing his time between the anxious parents who want reports on their children and the children who need to be consoled that they'll be picked up. Eventually everybody will get used to the routine and nerves will calm down. Until then, he does his best, almost literally alternating between patting adult and child shoulders and backs.

Pike is shaking the hand of Pavel's father (a wiry, curly-haired man) when Rand slips up to his side.

"Mr. Pike."

He nods at her to wait a moment and finishes his conversation (his assurance that Pavel is socializing appropriately with the other children). Then Pike turns to Janice with a smiling admonishment. "Call me Chris, Janice."

She blushes. "Ms. Kirk called. She'll be thirty minutes late."

"That's fine." He glances over at Jimmy, who is biting on the end of a crayon and staring at the boy across from him. The other boy looks unhappy—very unhappy—to have Kirk's undivided attention. He decides he'd better intervene.

Pike squats down at their table.

"Hello, Leonard. Jim."

"'S Jimmy!"

Pike smiles and adjusts his glasses. They are merely prescription reading glasses, but he likes to wear them in the classroom. Glasses make him seem more approachable, more _fatherly_ to some children. (A child once called him Santa Claus, but that's a different story altogether.)

"Jimmy," Pike says, "your mother called to tell me that she is on her way. And she's looking forward to hearing all about your day."

"Mama can meet my new fwiend Bwones!"

Pike is surprised when the other boy hisses "Stop IT! My name is Lennnnny!"

"Bwones!"

"LENNY!"

"BWONES!"

"Alright!" Pike rubs his forehead. "Jimmy, you should not call people names that they don't like. Lenny doesn't like the name Bones."

Kirk's lip pokes out. "But he's drawing bwones."

Pike feels his eyebrow go up. He cannot help himself. He peers over at Lenny's picture. "May I?" he asks. The boy shrugs. Christopher takes one look at it and bites his lip.

"How very… different, Lenny. Why the skeleton?"

"'Cuz that's what we look like when we _die_," Lenny says matter-of-factly.

Oh boy. "Okay," he agrees and decides that his blossoming headache is a sign to stop asking questions. Lenny accepts his drawing back with the most expressive unhappy face Pike has seen in a while. Then that scowl lightens considerably when Lenny recognizes his father at the front of the room. McCoy forgets about everybody and everything else in lieu of attaching himself to the grinning man like a burr and announcing, "Wanna go home! They're all stupid-heads!"

"Not a stwupid-head," Jimmy says darkly. Pike takes the crayon out of the boy's mouth and slips the slobbery (now-unusable) item in his pocket.

He pats the kid on the back and assures him, "No, Jimmy, nobody is a stupid-head. Now finish your picture."

Things are calm enough when Pike catches Spock slipping up to the door with his hands clasped behind his back. He's about to tell the little Vulcan that waiting by the door is unnecessary, but then he notices the way the child's head is cocked to the side and his eyes are riveted to the door. It's little wonder, then, that his mother appears not a moment later and smiles down at her son. "Hello, love. Ready to go?"

Pike watches as Spock places his small hand into her extended one. "Yes, Mother."

Ms. Grayson looks up at Pike as he approaches. He informs her, "Your son is exemplary, madam. We're lucky to have him with us at Little Star."

She is still smiling as she replies, "I know."

Spock seems to recognize that Pike wants to say more (ask more) because he displays the first sign of impatience all day as he tugs on his mother's hand. She touches his small face with gentle fingers, and Pike lets them go without further delay. (He hopes Spock continues to attend his class; he truly does.)

One by one, the children go home. It is simultaneously the best and saddest part of Christopher's day. He and Janice are straightening chairs and collecting scattered papers. There are only two boys left. It's obvious that Jimmy doesn't like to be alone because he has long since slid from one empty table to sit beside the other boy. Pike stands close by, idly thumbing through a folder while he eavesdrops.

"Hewo!"

Jimmy's talking to Hikaru Sulu, a child hastily enrolled by his father at a last minute's notice. The boy is quiet and very intent on his piece of paper. Pike can see the tip of Hikaru's tongue peeking out at his concentrated efforts. Jimmy ignores the fact that he is being ignored. Chatters on about his house and how he wants a puppy but his mother is mean to him and won't get him a puppy and the puppy's name would be Puppy because that's what it should to be.

Eventually, Hikaru begins to make monosyllabic responses that sound more like grunts—and he's definitely taking quick peeks now at Kirk and his drawing—until the youngster puts down his own black crayon and asks Jimmy quite clearly, "What's that?" He points at Jimmy's picture.

Jimmy looks proud. "I'm Capt'n and that's my ship!"

Hikaru looks confused and leans over to peruse the "spaceship." Pike's seen it too; the craft resembles a silver pancake topped with a stick figure in a squiggly cape.

Then little James T. Kirk asks, "Can you fwy?"

Pike listens no more. Ms. Kirk steps into the room, looking harried but happy. He greets her, and she says she hopes that her son wasn't too much of a hassle.

Pike grins. "Well, I'm not ready to throw in the towel quite yet."

They both laugh. Jimmy catches the sound of his mother's laughter and drags her away to meet his new friend Hikaru who's going to pilot his spaceship when they're battling bad guys.

Pike tucks a hand into his sweater and thinks that, perhaps, he might survive his new whirlwind of a class after all.


	3. Part Three

**Part Three**

* * *

"But I wanna be wit Bwones!" Jimmy has no qualms about expressing his unhappiness at the tops of his lungs. Pike shushes him, pulls him to the side.

"Now, listen. Look at Scotty." The boy stubbornly refuses to look anywhere but at Pike, those blue eyes blazing with temper. "_James_," Pike warns. He remembers Ms. Kirk telling him, "Call him James if he gets stubborn." She smiled, added, "Use his entire name if things get truly dire."

The kid takes a quick peek at the other child, who is scuffing a dirty mini-sneaker—shoe laces trailing—on the carpet.

"Do you see how sad he looks?" Pike gentles his voice, thrusts the budding exasperation aside. (It's useless in these situations.)

"I want Bwones," Kirk says, though his tone is quieter than before.

"You are hurting his feelings, James, because you don't want to be his partner." That bottom lip pokes out farther. "I know, it's not fair. But listen, Jimmy, Scotty is a very lonely little boy. He doesn't make friends the way that you do—" _Automatically assume that you do._ "—and he is afraid that the other boys and girls won't like him, so he doesn't try." Damn, this is never easy to explain. But Kirk is silent now, listening. Pike rubs the boy's arm. "If you refuse to be his partner, then he won't understand why. He'll think that you don't like him. Is that what you want?"

Jimmy is extra cute when he blinks innocent wide eyes. Pike won't be deterred.

"Do you like him, Jimmy?"

"Yes," the boy admits. Thank God, Pike thinks, that the toddler believes that he should like everyone.

"And do you want to hurt his feelings?"

"No."

"Will you be his partner?"

Kirk looks over at Lenny, who is glaring at a calm-faced Spock, then down at the floor. "Okay."

"Atta boy." He makes his approval plain. "And, Jim, I want you to work really hard at being nice to Scotty. He needs a friend like you."

That perks the child up, an assignment of sorts. Pike watches, satisfied, as Jimmy runs back to the sad-faced Scotty, automatically grabs the boy's hand and drags him over to the toy trucks. The sound of babbling "We're friends now, Scotty, the very best of friends—" can be heard from across the room.

Now to handle the other situation. He knew that this wouldn't be an easy task; partnering up children never is. But Chris's gut says that bashful Scotty will benefit the most with a partner who can draw him out of his shell. Spock, of course, had been the hardest to pair, despite that the Vulcan would not complain about whom Pike chose as his partner. Spock considers himself to be superior to the others—which is rather true, in terms of intellect and manners. However, that attitude will only amplify the Vulcan's self-isolation. Pike—with Ms. Grayson's blessing—is delegated the task of introducing Spock to the social world. He can think of no one better than Leonard McCoy, because Lenny is the one of the few present who refuses to be intimidated.

Also, Pike suspects that the clash of the boys' mind-sets will force them to figure out a way to work together this week. Either that, or there will be a massive amount of drama. Pike has been through this type of thing before, many times in his fifteen years, and expects more than a few obstacles (and fights) in the foreseeable future. Usually the end result is worth the headaches.

He approaches the duo with caution. Rand is talking with other paired children; namely, at the moment, Nyota and Christine.

"Hello, Lenny. Spock. What have you learned about each other so far?"

"Spock's stupid. He won't say nothing," Lenny complains.

Apparently Spock does talk. "I do not lack intelligence," the Vulcan informs his partner coolly.

Lenny fails to look convinced. The boy's arms are crossed and he kicks a leg slightly too close to Spock's shins. "Then why dontcha talk?" he challenges.

"I do not find your conversation stimulating."

Ho boy. "Spock," Pike interrupts because Lenny's face going red is a bad sign of a tantrum or the imminent swing of a fist. "You must be nice to Leonard."

The Vulcan stares at his teacher. "I was not unkind, Sir. I spoke the truth."

Lenny counters, "Nuh-uh! My con-ver—conversation is stee—stem—good! Isn't it, Mr. Pike?"

Chris knows better than to take sides. "Spock, Lenny, it is important that you learn to work together. I want you to discover one thing that you both like." When they look mutinous (interesting on Spock's behalf, because he does not change expression, but Pike_ knows_ the boy is unhappy), Pike adds, "That's an order." He leaves them both at a table, silent as the grave.

Best to move on, for now, he thinks as he makes his way over to Pavel and Hikaru, who seem to be discussing their favorite crayon colors. (At least, some of the pairings are working.) Later, meaning about five minutes or so, when Pike circles back around to McCoy and Spock and asks them what they have in common, Lenny smiles—Pike's heart drops—and replies, "We don't like the same stuff, Mr. Pike."

"You don't?"

"Nope," the boy says, then grins widely (is he bouncing?). "We_ both_ don't like Jimmy."

Chris resists the urge to sigh. Well, he supposes, friendships have to start _somewhere_.

As he calls everybody to the rug for the start of some fun partnered activities, he hears Lenny lean in and ask Spock, "Why're your ears pointy?"

Then a wail distracts him, because Scotty has pulled Christine's braid of hair. When Pike wants to know why, trying to ignore Christine's dramatic tearful sobs from Rand's arms, he blushes and mumbles, "Jimmy said girls like it."

Pike wonders how long it will be before Jimmy drives his teacher to drink. "Well, Jimmy is wrong. It's not nice to hurt others, Scotty. Pulling hair hurts."

"Okay."

"Now tell Christine that you are sorry for hurting her."

Rand gently untangles Christine and puts her down. Nyota watches the show with interest. Little Kirk is nowhere to be seen. (Damn, another lecture; this kid is a handful.) Scotty sniffles and says, "I'm sorry."

Christine hiccups and stares at him, tears leaking down her face. Pike bets that she can cry at will. Rand nudges the little girl. She scrubs a hand across her nose (Janice sighs and pulls out tissues from her pocket) and tells Scotty, "Okay."

Pike says, "Good. Now, everybody, to the rug, please. Let's go!"

Jimmy finally appears, wide-eyed and innocent, but Pike isn't buying that look at all. (Not anymore.) The boy settles beside Scotty, leans over and whispers something. Scotty perks up, quits looking so forlorn, and nods.

Pike briefly pushes up his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. How many hours until Ms. Kirk arrives?

Too many.

* * *

Galia arrives on a Wednesday. Christopher Pike gently takes her from her parents, and the child automatically buries her face into his sweater. She's bundled up for winter weather (it is June), complete with a cap over her bright reddish-orange curls.

Janice nods at his signal. "Children," she says merrily. "We have a newcomer to the class." Everyone is already focused on the bundle in his arms. Rand adds, "Her name is Galia. Let's make her feel welcome. Say 'Hello, Galia!'"

She is not quite trembling when a chorus of _hello_s and _a girl!_ erupt like a loud volcanic explosion. Pike whispers to her and pats her back. She relaxes enough that he can squat down and place her feet on the floor. Her face, when she peers up at him, is bright green. Pike chucks her under the chin and says, "Want to meet everybody, Galia?"

Her curls bounce as she nods.

Pike scans the crowd, picks out Kirk and calls him up to the front. Well, now here's the true test. He doesn't think Jimmy will disappoint him. The boy scuttles up to them. "Yes, Sir!"

"Captain, I've got a new crew member for you. Her name is Galia." Janice makes a noise and coughs to hide her laughter. Pike has no illusions over how she thinks of him. But this is about what's best for Galia.

Jimmy looks excited that Pike acknowledges his rank. "Okay! Hewo, Galia!" Jimmy tries to get closer but she keeps her back to him.

Pike attempts to regain Kirk's attention. "Jimmy, do you understand that a Captain is responsible for his crew?"

"Yeah!"

"And you accept responsibility for helping Galia make friends with the rest of your… crew?" Janice is definitely laughing now, and not bothering to hide that fact. If Pike's cheeks tint pink, he feels lucky that there isn't a mirror close by.

"Yeah!"

Pike says to Galia, "Do you hear that, sweetheart? Jimmy is your friend and there are others who'll be your friend too."

He beckons Jimmy closer, positions him just so and gently turns Galia to face the little boy.

Kirk's eyes are the size of quarters. "You're gween!" he announces.

"Galia is an Orion, Jimmy. Orions have green skin."

Kirk's hand automatically reaches out to touch the little girl. "Does it hurt?"

Galia shakes her head.

"Oooh."

There is a minute of silence, which Pike interrupts with a soft reminder. "Captain."

The boy looks at Pike, then at Galia. His chest puffs out. "I'm your Capt'n," he informs his newest crew member. "Capt'n Jimmy!" The words ring with pride. Pike laughs on the inside.

And the rest is out of the teacher's hands as Jimmy proceeds to usher Galia off to the center rug. Janice sidles up to him and remarks, "Well done, Mr. Pike."

"Chris."

She puts her hands on her hips and they watch the noisy, albeit excited, gaggle of children crowding around Galia and Jimmy, the latter of which stands partially (protectively) in front of his newest friend. Nyota says something like "Boys are dirty and eat bugs," Jimmy takes offense, and then the battle for Galia's loyalty begins.


	4. Part Four

**Part Four**

* * *

No class is, unfortunately, without its problem child. Jimmy Kirk does not qualify as the problem child, despite that his mischievous nature often causes problems. Or large messes that Pike has to clean up.

Such as how Kirk decided that he wanted paint rather than crayons and gathered a band of boys (Scotty, Hikaru and Pavel) to raid the art cabinet. A cabinet that now is locked up tight, with one of two keys on a chain around Pike's neck. Lord, why does he have to resort to these drastic measures after some many years? That's right; because Jimmy is the most special toddler he's ever had the misfortune of looking after. Pike would demand a pay raise, but since he is his own boss… Well, there are better ways to spend the money—and that is, ironically, on supplies like paint for Kirk to spread all over a giant canvas that happens to be a wall.

No, Kirk is not the problem child.

Samuel Giotto is.

In the third week, Jimmy and Sammy are randomly partnered together. That lasts all of ten minutes. Neither boy has the proclivity for silently glaring their dislike as Lenny and Spock did. Sammy attempts to order Jimmy around—who is smaller, which is hardly a feat because Sam Giotto is a large child of six (and considered "not quite ready" to begin proper school). Sammy likes being a good old fashioned bully and Jimmy, who has never been bullied before, refuses to believe that Giotto's extra two years entitle him to be in charge.

_

* * *

_

Ten minutes into the morning…

Pike and Janice were stooped over a child that looked green—sick, that is, because it was not Galia or Spock—when he heard "Cuz I said so, runt!" and an answering loud "NO!" Suddenly, in the moment or two that the adults had not been paying attention, a crowd of children had gathered by the cubby holes. Said-crowd suddenly squealed very loudly at a high-pitched shout of rage.

(Damn it!)

Pike was over there in a flash, removing shocked and excited bodies out of his path. Jimmy was on top of a downed Giotto and pummeling the boy with tiny fists while shouting about cupcakes. Pike never did figure that out, didn't have time to do so. He shouted "James Tiberius Kirk!" and used the boy's pause of surprise to literally tuck the enraged Kirk under his arm. It was put the kid into a chair and order him to stay. Then back into the crowd of children to retrieve Giotto, who was rubbing angrily at the tears in his eyes.

Jimmy wouldn't talk—only glared at Sammy and muttered "Cupcake" while rubbing his arm. (A light bruise was starting to form just below his elbow, one Rand tenderly kissed later.)

Sammy, on the other hand, claimed that it was Jimmy's fault. When the boy could not come up with a better reason of why Jimmy hit him than "Cuz he just did" Pike was forced to tell him that lying only gets him into more trouble.

Pike explained to both Kirk and Giotto, with a stern face, "It makes no difference who started the fight, boys. You hurt each other and that is NOT how we handle disagreements at Little Star. Samuel, being older doesn't make you better than Jimmy. James, if someone says or does something to make you mad, you tell an adult."

Both their faces were red.

His voice had bite. "Do you understand? Samuel?"

"Yes, sir."

"James?"

"Yeah."

"As punishment, you will both have to stay inside this afternoon and help me clean."

Kirk's lip wobbled, and Sammy trembled in his chair. Pike gave neither of them a hint of sympathy. He called Janice over. "You take James." Lowered his voice, "See if he has any injuries." She nodded and led Kirk over to the community sink. Pike took Giotto to his office and sat him in a chair, checked him over and cleaned scrapes.

When he returned to the other children, there was a heavy silence in the air and several pairs of wide eyes looking at him curiously. He directed everyone over to the round tables. Each pair was handed a large sheet of paper and a box of markers. They set to work on a joint picture of their choosing. Rand had released Kirk back into his chair, and Pike left her to oversee the activity. He squatted down at Nyota and Lenny's table.

Lenny wasn't coloring, just watching, and Nyota ignored them both as she dissected the paper with a thick black line.

"Nyota, Lenny, I need to talk to you both for a minute." Nyota put down her marker.

The McCoy child asked, before Pike can begin to explain what he wanted, "Is Jimmy in trouble?"

"Jimmy and Sammy are both in trouble, Leonard."

"It's stupid Sammy's fault," Nyota said.

"They hit each other and they are both in trouble."

Neither child argued. Pike sighed. "I cannot allow them to be partners this week. They each need a new partner, and I think that you can help. Will you?"

Lenny had the most solemn expression Chris had ever seen on a six-year-old's face. "I'll be partners with Jimmy."

That was surprising. Didn't McCoy claim he hated Kirk? "Actually, I want you to be partners with Samuel, Lenny."

McCoy's shoulders hunched. "He's mean."

"I ain't afraid of a boy and Sammy's stupid," Nyota offered. "I'll bite him!"

Which is exactly why Pike wanted Leonard McCoy to work with Samuel Giotto for the rest of the week. There is no need of a repeat of this morning's fight. (Except Sammy would probably be crying in earnest once fierce little Nyota got ahold of him.) And Lenny was also Sammy's age.

"I want you to work with Jimmy, Nyota."

Her nose wrinkled. "He's stupid too."

Lenny said lowly, "She thinks_ all_ boys are stupid."

Depending on the age of said-boys, Pike wouldn't necessarily disagree with Uhura's assessment. But he'd never admit that out loud.

"Can you both help me? Lenny, you'll partner with Sammy and, Nyota, you with Jimmy?"

They agreed.

* * *

The rest of the week ran fairly smoothly. Nyota threatened Kirk a few times but they seemed to work well enough on a mutual task. Pike suspects that she is the second girl to join Kirk's "crew." How the boy managed that is a mystery to all.

On the other hand, any time that Sammy started to make Lenny mad, the boy just dropped what he was doing and walked away. That got the message across to Giotto that not everyone would respond to his belligerence, and especially that it wouldn't make people admire him either. Little McCoy is no slacker when it comes to expressing his opinions of others. (The child has made one or two girls—and Pavel—cry in the past; though the boy seems repentant enough in the face of another's tears.)

All is well, for a time, with only minor incidents—one involving the trashcan and which becomes something Pike still cringes over with random moments of _Ick_. Then the fourth week comes around.

Jimmy is partnered with Spock.

Pike is naïve enough to think this might be a good thing, despite that Spock's tolerance for others seems severely tried in little Kirk's presence.

He is wrong. Oh so very wrong.

The fact is that Kirk and Spock together is TOO much of a good thing. Because Spock is smart, Jimmy is full of ideas, and Pike did not realize that Spock might eventually cave to the Kirk charm.

And, of course, to the promise that Spock can be the most important person—second only to Captain Jimmy—on a starship.

On a Wednesday, Pike notices that Spock has a roughly cut star glued to the front of his shirt. When the teacher remarks, "Interesting star, Mr. Spock," the Vulcan replies serenely, "I am First Officer of the starship Enterprise."

Jimmy butts into the conversation by skipping up to them, chocolate pudding ringing his mouth. "What'sa En'erpwrise, Spock?" the boy asks.

"Your starship, Captain. It is called Enterprise."

Those blue eyes sparkle. "En'erpwrise. Mmmm." The child licks at the corner of his mouth and Pike hands him a wet napkin. That Jimmy only succeeds in smearing the chocolate rather than wiping it off is par for the course. Pike cleans his face.

He should have asked more questions. Like why Spock would join a fantasy game that he had claimed was illogical, not to mention "a waste of mental capacity." But Pike did not ask, did not stop to think about it—not even later that night in his own home as he rifled through a set of lesson plans and children's drawings.

That was his mistake.

So it happened on a Friday that Mr. Christopher Pike learned exactly how much of a grave mistake_ not asking _could be.


	5. Part Five

**Part Five**

* * *

"Good morning, Ms. Kirk."

"Winona," the woman corrects absently as she releases her son into the throng of children. Then Winona turns to him with a bemused smile. "Jimmy has been very excitable since breakfast, Mr. Pike. Is today special for some reason?"

Pike pushes at his glasses, then slips his hands into his pockets. "Not that I recall." He smiles ruefully. "Though I can assure you that your son makes each day uniquely… special for me. And please, call me Chris."

Her eyes are dancing. "If it's any consolation, Mr. P—Chris, I know for a fact that Jimmy likes you very much."

Chris's eyebrow goes up.

"No, really!" Winona laughs. "At dinner, it's 'Mr. Pike said this' or 'Mr. Pike let us do that.' I swear, you'd think Mr. Pike is a regular fixture in our home!"

Chris hopes he is not blushing. He's too old for that. Instead, he clears his throat. "Well, I'll endeavor to live up to the Kirk standards."

He is probably still red in the face even after she leaves. Maybe that's why Janice is smiling at him in obvious amusement. Pike takes a moment to shake off the absurd happiness which feels suspiciously like a young man's nervous butterflies in his stomach. It's Friday, and he steels himself for the massive force of energy preparing to bombard him on all fronts.

* * *

The hours up until nap-time went rather smoothly. That should have been his first clue. Everybody remained agreeable and happy. Even Spock seemed accepting of the glitter that Jimmy wanted to add to Spock's carefully drawn Standard alphabet. Pike did notice that the Vulcan boy had his gold star pinned to his shirt again. Who pinned it? Spock himself or his mother?

The second clue would have been the giggles that seemed to overtake the children like a tidal wave during random moments in the morning. Both Janice and Chris were at a loss to delineate why it would happen; they only knew that it did, and after the third time the titter of giggling rose up, Pike found himself swallowing a giggle too. It was infectious, the children's happiness. (That's one of the things he loves most about kids… their unadulterated happiness.)

Everyone woke up from their naps like clockwork, though Scotty still had to be rolled over and quietly coaxed awake (not unusual for Scotty, who loves napping almost as much as chocolate chip cookies). When Pike sent the children out to play, they scattered into the yard in groups of three. But again, Pike failed to notice these things until much too late.

Pike, as usual, starts with a slow walk around the playground, occasionally calling out to a child or another not to run so fast. Once he is squatted down by Pavel in the sandbox, attempting to explain to the boy that shoveling all the sand to once side won't be as satisfying as, say, building a tiny row of sandhills (rather than an enormous one), the sound of crying catches his attention. Janice calls him over for assistance because Christine Chapel is balling her eyes out and Rand cannot figure out why.

They are distracted for some minutes, until Pike sighs and collects the little girl in his arms. When he steps through the entrance way into the building, he almost knocks over Scotty who is coming from the other direction in haste. Pike pauses, then, with Christine's tears wetting his shoulder to watch the boy pelt across the yard, his stubby legs working furiously. How strange. Scotty never runs, only ambles.

The moment he sets Christine onto the counter, she quits crying and says "I better."

Pike blinks. Slowly turns on the faucet and wets a soft rag. She looks satisfied as he wipes the tear tracks off of her face. Chris asks gently, "Do you want to tell me why you were crying, Christine?"

Her blond ponytail swings as she shakes her head fiercely _no_.

"Are you sure there is not something you want to tell me?"

"No, Mr. Pike." Her eyes are round.

The door opens and Rand hastily comes in with Galia.

"Janice?"

"Chris, Galia says that she feels sick to her stomach."

Damn. "We cannot leave the others alone, Jan. Christine's okay, I'm going—"

Christine bursts into tears again. "M-Mr. P-pike," she wails his name loudly. Her arms go out and Pike has no choice but to scoop her up before she tumbles off the counter.

Then, out of nowhere, he hears a sound like a cat screeching from the yard. His gut goes _Outside NOW_.

"Jan, I have to go. Take Christine."

Galia whimpers and Janice looks torn between her bundle and the one in Pike's arms. He barks, "Now, Miss Rand!" Galia is placed carefully onto the floor and it takes them both to pry the sobbing Christine off of Pike. But they manage it and Pike is out the door at a run.

It's not hard to spot the trouble. The most of the playground is eerily empty; an abandoned swing creaks as it sways, buckets have been discarded hapzardly in the sandbox. The children are gathered in a large huddle around the playhouse, a wooden cabin of sorts with a tiny opening for a door and one window. He cannot tell, at first glance, who is missing from the circle of children attempting to peer between the spaced boards. Pike slows to a jog and drops to one knee. Most of the little ones scamper from the entrance except for Hikaru who, with a wide stance and arms spread, is guarding the entrance.

"Hikaru, move!"

"No!"

"This is NOT a game, Mister—"

Pavel appears from behind Hikaru, inside the little playhouse. Pike can see that there are others inside as well, but for the gaggle of children and their instant chattering, he has no clue what is going on.

Until Pavel says, "Mr. Spock is _dying _and the Doctor must fix him." The child giggles.

Pike fells the blood drain out of his head and wastes no more time. Hikaru is summarily plucked up and put to the side, Pavel ordered to come out _this instant_.

The scene probably looks hilarious, a fully grown man on his hands and knees attempting to wedge himself inside a child's playhouse. He is greeted by Jimmy's "Hiya, Mr. Pike!"

At first he thinks he is going to have a heart-attack at the age of thirty-seven because Spock is flat on the ground with Lenny hunched over him and all three boys are covered in green blood.

Then Spock says, calmly enough for somebody injured, "Doctor, have you finished your procedure?"

Lenny is muttering. Then, "Stop it, Spock, you're gettin' that nasty green stuff everywhere!"

"I have not moved. That would be the Captain."

Pike is working around Lenny so that he can get to Spock when Jimmy ducks under his arm and reaches out to pat his face. His shoulder crams against the roof as he brings his fingers up to investigate what Jimmy's hand has left behind.

His fingers are covered in shining green. Pike's nose finally recognizes the smell.

Paint.

Green paint.

It might be hysteria that bubbles in his throat. Or maybe he's just going to pass out from the quick rise and fall of his blood pressure.

"Paint," he croaks.

"No, sir, it's Spock's life's blood," Lenny corrects. Pike stares at McCoy, and the six-year old stares back for a moment before his look skips over to Kirk. "I've done what I can, Captain. It's up to Spock now." The gravity of his voice is unnerving, though he sounds like he is reciting lines.

Pike needs to have a talk with McCoy's parents about what sort of entertainment is appropriate for a six-year old.

Jimmy's head bobs up and down. Then the blond-headed boy wiggles between Lenny and Spock and says to the Vulcan, very seriously, "Dwon't die, Spock."

"I shall attempt a healing trance, Captain."

Pike runs a hand over his face and interrupts the show. "Enough, boys. Just. Enough."

Even Spock turns his head—despite his dying scene—to look at Chris.

"Play-Time is over," he informs them and twists his body with a grimace to get a handhold on the doorway. It's awkward and fairly embarrassing as he bends and creaks and crawls to right himself. All the children, including Rand with Galia and Christine holding onto her skirt, are watching him.

Kirk, Spock, and McCoy exit the playhouse with the ease of babes. His face must look particularly grim because no one says a word.

"Inside." The word is clipped.

Now that his adrenaline rush has subsided, that his brain can think, it starts piecing together a puzzle he does not like. For the first time in a long, long while, there is true anger in his stride as he marches back into the daycare center.

Everybody runs to the center rug and huddles there for the explosion. And for some reason, Kirk, Spock and McCoy do not sit down. They walk right up to the front and face Pike.

Jesus. Do they think this is a court martial?

That takes his anger down a notch.

Then Jimmy says, "I did it."

He stares at Kirk but, surprisingly, the boy does not fidget.

"Did what, James?"

"I st-st-took t'paint."

He says nothing for a moment. Then looks over at little Scotty who is hunched over his shoes and poking at a loose carpet thread.

"Captains should not lie," he comments idly.

Kirk's eyes blaze.

Pike addresses the other two boys. "You cooperated with Jimmy's plan."

Spock tilts his head as if Pike's words are fascinating. "The Enterprise requires a doctor to treat medical emergencies, Sir," the Vulcan states. He indicates that Pike is, perhaps, a slow Human to think otherwise.

Pike asks Lenny, "And you're the doctor, Mr. McCoy?"

The boy shrugs. "Maybe."

Jimmy puffs up. "You're my doctor, Bwones!"

"Says who?"

"You saved Spock 'n you'd save me too!"

Pike wants to patent the McCoy glare. It will be a thing of beauty one day, when the boy has better control of his facial muscles.

"'Cuz you said I had to or he'd die!" Lenny's finger is dangerously close to Jimmy's eyeball. "I said I don't wanna be a part of your stupid crew!"

Jimmy hops in place. "Yes you do!"

"I don't like you!"

"Yes you do!"

"No, I don't!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"DO TOO!"

"DO NOT!"

"STOP!" Pike bellows.

Everyone falls silent. A few mouths tremble.

"First," Pike begins. "I know you did not take the paint, Jimmy, but I would bet that it was your idea. I do not need to hear why you thought having Spock die would be fun. You will not play that type of game at Little Star Academy. Being injured is a very VERY serious matter."

Pike slowly looks across the room, lets the other children know that his lecture to the three boys also applies to everyone.

"If one of you is hurt, it is my responsibility to help you or to get help for you. If Spock was actually hurt, and I thought that he was pretending and _ignored _him, what would happen to Spock?"

Pike looks directly at Lenny. "Could you help him then, Leonard?"

The boy shakes his head.

Chris pretends that he does not see the way Jimmy pats Lenny comfortingly. He speaks to the Vulcan instead. "Spock, I am disappointed. It is okay to play, but some things cannot be treated as games. Do you understand?"

The little Vulcan answers quietly, "I… understand, Sir."

Pike pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "Miss Rand, please escort these three to the restroom." He will decide later how to approach the issue of the boys' green-stained clothes to their parents.

When Kirk, McCoy, and Spock come back, freshly scrubbed, Pike is in a chair with a book in his lap. He points at the three boys to sit down in the front. Janice quietly retreats to the back of the room to wash out a stack of green spotted towels. Pike clears his throat and opens the book.

He begins, "This story is called The Boy Who Cried Wolf."

Later, close to midnight, as he tiredly closes his eyes in his own bed, the thought occurs to him:

How did they know where the extra key was hidden? Was it Jimmy who...? Had to be. It couldn't have been Spock. Could it?

Pike groans and buries his face into his pillow. Two days of child-free bliss.

_Only _two days.


	6. Part Six

**Part Six**

* * *

It so happens that the first birthday child is Nyota Uhura. Christopher Pike gathers all his little ones and declares that today is a special day, and do they know why? Heads shake, with the exception of Nyota who is beaming from ear-to-ear.

Pike smiles at her. "What's special about today, Nyota?"

"It's my birthday!" she annouces proudly.

Pike ignores Jimmy's automatic shout of "Cake!" and Scotty's obvious approval of this idea. "And how old are you today?"

"I'm six!" She twirls around, eyes sparkling, to say triumphantly at Lenny, "I'm six and you're not older 'n me now!"

Lenny McCoy looks as if he cannot decide how to respond to that announcement. The boy simply says, "Okay."

Nyota tacks on, "I'm six and I'm a girl so I'm better 'n you!"

Pike doesn't quite smack his forehead. He clears his throat and shoots a warning look at the two. Lenny's reddening face subsides at his teacher-does-not-approve frown. (Pike's perfected it over the years.)

He motions to Janice, who reveals a very large poster-board. "I want everyone to add something special to this poster today. It's for Nyota to take home so that when she looks at it, she'll think of all her friends from Little Star who are happy to celebrate her birthday."

His heart skips a beat, because no one protests the idea outright with words such as "I don't like Nyota" or "I'm ain't happy it's her birthday!" Not one child admits that he or she might feel less enthusiastic about today's plans—probably because they have an instinctive inkling that Pike might have edible surprises in store for them all.

"You can use anything from the art cabinet today. Please, remember to be careful. And what happens if we make a mess?"

"We clean it up!" comes the sing-song chorus.

Well, they know the proper response, at the very least.

Pike waves them off towards Rand who is unlocking the cabinet. She shoots him an amused look as a large group of excited children stampede in her direction. Christopher calls, "Nyota!"

She skips up to him.

"While everyone else decorates the poster for you—" he talks as he opens a drawer in his desk. "—you get to put whatever you want on this."

He hands her a paper gold crown, one that can be adjusted to fit on her head. Nyota's eyes light up.

She takes it as if it is fragile. "Am I better 'n Captain Jimmy now?"

He leans down to whisper conspiratorially, "Not even Captain Jimmy is more important than the Birthday Queen." That makes her extremely happy, because Nyota runs off to show Rand her Queen's crown (and flaunt it at Jimmy). Pike knows that he shouldn't help instigate a potential argument, but he suspects that Jimmy will take the news in stride.

That is, until the boy tugs on his pants leg (unfortunately marking his new trousers with blue and purple handprints). "Mr. Pwike?"

"Yes, Jimmy?"

"When do I get a cwown?"

"When it's your birthday."

"Today's my bwirthday too, Mr. Pwike."

He scoops up the child and carries him to the large calendar over his desk. "This is today, Jimmy." Pike points out the white box marked with the current date. Nyota Uhura's name is written across it. "That's Nyota's name, to remind me that today is her birthday."

"Where's mine?"

He shifts the child to his hip and pulls up several sheets on the calendar. "There's your name. James Kirk."

"James _Ti-bear-ee-us _Kirk!"

"Your birthday is not for a few more months."

Then Jimmy squirms in his arms. "That's fooorever."

Pike smiles and ruffles the child's hair as he sets him down. "It'll be here before you know it, son."

* * *

For lunch's dessert, Chris and Janice bring out big tubs of neapolitan ice cream which has all the children very excited. Even Spock lifts an eyebrow and ventures close enough to the sweets. Pike called his mother last week to find out if there were any special "birthday" foods Spock could indulge in (excluding chocolate). Ms. Grayson had laughed over the phone and said, "Ice cream, Mr. Pike. Strawberry. But keep an eye on him. He'll eat three times the amount of a normal child if you aren't paying attention! And if you are, he'll attempt to persuade you that large quantities of ice cream are logical for a Vulcan."

Spock accepts his cup of pink ice cream and a spoon with dignity. Three minutes later Pike catches him quietly slipping up to Janice, at angle that might make it difficult for Pike to spot him, and calmly takes another cup of strawberry ice cream from Rand as if its his first one. Later, when the strawberry side of the gallon tub becomes suspiciously low, Pike will think back on the number of "seconds" that involved requests for strawberry. Even later than that, while the children are running in the yard, most flapping their arms like they are about to take flight (and Nyota issuing orders to anyone who will listen), Pike is cleaning up from the make-shift party and finds five empty, spotless bowls lined along a window sill. The only true evidence of a sneaky baby Vulcan's cunning is a set of five plastic spoons discarded in a puddle of melted pink ice cream at the bottom of the trashcan next to his desk.

Pike wonders just how extensive a First Officer's influence is over a crew. He also wonders how long it will be before Captain Jimmy realizes that he can bribe said-First Officer with relative ease if the bribe were strawberry enough.

Janice pokes her head into the room. "Want to trade places, Chris?"

"I'm sure that you do, Jan. What are they up to now?"

"Queen Nyota has decided that her male subjects are the brothers from The Six Swans." Janice chuckles. "Except she calls them geese because only girls should be swans. Boys are dirty geese."

Pike laughs and hands her the trash bag. "Okay, you win. I've got to see this."

Nyota's production of the fairy tale turns out to be rather creative. Mr. Pike enjoys watching Nyota tell Jimmy to flap harder. And poor Scotty is an awkward stumbling goose puffing from exertion. Spock stands to Nyota's right, hands clasp behind his back as he watches the other children of his gender run into each other like demented sheep. Nyota grins at him widely and says, "Does this show please you, my Prince?"

Spock answers, with the solemnity his royal position requires, "Indeed, it does. Might I suggest that that… errant fowl—" Pike sees Spock point at Lenny, who has collapsed in the dirt on his knees. "—be the last to undertake the transformation back to Human form?"

Nyota walks over to Lenny and pokes him with her scepter. (Damn, Pike thought he'd removed all of the sticks from the playground last weekend.) She turns back to Spock, ever regal and declares, "For you, my sweet Prince, I'll have him plucked and stuffed for dinner!"

Exactly what does that girl read for bedtime stories? Pike feels that he must intervene on McCoy's behalf when the Cook—Galia—and the two "transformed" swans Sulu and Pavel jump on Lenny and attempt to drag him over to the "kettle" for stew.

Of course, then Queen Nyota takes offense that the Ogre wants her and her Prince's evening meal so Pike ends up under a pile of attacking swans which seem to multiple in force rather unexpectedly. (Some of them bite.) By the end of Play-time, Pike is limping, Janice is laughing so hard that she's crying and Nyota sweeps back inside on Prince Spock's arm, victorious, for her "reward" ice cream.

Pike groans when he catches Spock's departing words. "Strawberry ice cream would be a logical choice, Nyota."

He has little doubt that the refrigerator will qualify as Forbidden Territory once a Vulcan sets his sights on it. So then, if the children's teacher looks at all panicked when he shuffle-limps as quickly as possible towards the Little Star's mini-kitchen, perhaps that moment of weakness in the adult can be excused. After all, even baby Vulcans are still pretty damned strong.


	7. Part Seven

**Part Seven**

* * *

Flu season is year-round in a daycare center. Pike is used to pinpointing the early signs of sickness, and with the way children are apt to touch everything and never wash their hands, it makes him rather more alert and epidemic-preventive than the average teacher. He is trained in basic nursing skills for this reason—ended up taking just enough courses at night for over a year so that he had an understanding of how to handle a sick—or soon-to-be sick—child.

Back then, his male friends had thought it was hilarious. Christopher Pike the Nurse.

"Why do you care about brats so much?"

"Hell, Chris, it's not like you receive anything but a paycheck. I don't get you, man."

But he hadn't paid them any mind, not at all. There are many reasons why Pike decided to dedicate his life's work to looking after small children. For one, he is rather good at it—enjoys the challenge and the knowledge that someone, at least, will care for each child that passes through Little Star Academy.

He also cannot have biological children of his own. With that said, he has considered options such as adoption since his early twenties. Then Little Star Academy had taken off the ground, and there were so many children in and out of his life on a daily basis that he found himself satisfied caring for other people's children. Perhaps he feels a tinge of mild regret now and then; maybe during that time of year when Father's Day rolls around and everyone is happily making cards for their fathers. For those cases in which one of his children is fatherless—for whatever reason—he has the child make a card to a father figure in their life, perhaps a grandfather. The subject is touchy, but over the years Pike has perfected smoothing jagged edges and soothing emotional wounds. In a way, that's his specialty.

So why does this affect him so much?

Pike sits in his rocker, in his apartment, turning over a card. Last week the children had worked on their Father's Day cards. At the end of Friday, after he'd seen the last child safely into the arms of her parent, he was packing up his briefcase and wishing dearly for a nap. Then he discovered a bright piece of paper floating in the middle of a desk drawer.

Letters spelled **MR. PIKE** carefully across the card's front. Under that, _Happy Father's Day_ in slanted, glittery letters. His heart had skipped a beat. He didn't open it, not then, and tucked it into his bag.

After a quiet dinner for one, he had held it in his hands, almost afraid.

Inside were two stick-figures, one tall with large black-rimmed glasses;the other stick-future had half the height of the first, spiky yellow hair and a red cape. They were labeled Captain Jimmy and Mr. Pike.

They were holding hands.

In all fifteen years, no child has ever given him a Father's Day card. Sure, he's had get-well cards from when his Teacher's Constitution of Steel failed and he ended up with the flu for a miserable week. He's gotten birthday cards too; one time, an usually sneaky assistant—a young man named Geoff M'Benga—had told the kids about Mr. Pike's "special day" and planned a surprise birthday party. The kids had loved it; Chris had too.

Jimmy's father is dead. That much Winona had indicated on the Little Star Academy application. So Pike had told Jimmy to think of a person that was special to him. Jimmy had looked thoughtful, then happy, and Pike had assumed the boy no longer needed encouragement—just for Pike to copy down the words Captain Jimmy so that Kirk could trace them. Christopher had, at that particular moment, wondered if the boy was dedicating the card to himself. He'd laughed.

He isn't laughing now. In fact, he feels very close to tears.

Pike takes the card into the kitchen and rearranges the other gifts—some very old—of past and present drawings. He places Jimmy's card in the center. Something he'll never grow tired of looking at, even after Jimmy moves on and grows up.

* * *

On Monday morning, he is ready to face the next week of trials and treasures. Ms. Kirk is running late. When Jimmy sees his teacher, he fairly launches himself out of his mother's arms and at Pike. Pike catches him, gives him a quick toss and puts him down. Jimmy spots Lenny sitting on the rug picking at a scabbed knee. The boy yells "Bwones!" and Pike is forgotten easily enough.

"I'm so sorry, Chris. Jimmy hid his left sock and then spilled cereal down his shirt while I was looking for it." She looks frazzled. Pike resists the urge to tuck a stray hair behind her ear.

"No trouble at all, Ms. Kirk. The morning never starts until a quarter past eight." He smiles. "It usually takes a bit of time to get the children settled and paying attention."

She smiles and hitches her purse and portfolio onto her shoulder. A sign that she's ready to go. Pike steps back. But surprisingly, when Pike grabs the doorknob to shut the door, Winona stalls him by placing her hand over his.

"Jimmy told me that he made you a Father's Day card."

Chris swallows the sudden emotion in his throat. "Yes. It was…a precious gift."

Her eyes are warm. "I think Jimmy couldn't have picked a better person. You're a good man, Chris. And you would make a wonderful father. I'm sure of it."

"Thank you." Is that his husky voice?

She smiles again, squeezes his hand briefly and leaves.

"Mr. Pwike!"

He jumps. Quickly shuts the door and turns around. The way Jimmy is looking at him makes Pike feel like a bug under glass.

He clears his throat. "Yes, Jimmy?"

"Nooothin'…" The boy lets the word trail off.

Chris raises an eyebrow. "Well then, how about we replace your nothing with something. Want to help me get everyone's attention?"

"Yeah!"

He chuckles and is about to stride into the room when a hand tugs on his pants leg and Kirk's voice chirps, "Mr. Pwike, it's okay if you kwiss my Mommy."

Janice walks by and is probably wondering why his mouth is hanging open. Jimmy has already run past him to tell his friends "Mr. Pwike says we gotta wake up! Wake UP!" Most of the children are awake, but they all know that Kirk isn't talking to the majority. He's poking Scotty, who is curled into a sleepy ball of boy and drool.

Pike rakes a hand through his hair and decides that he'll think later on the fact that a four-year-old just gave him permission to date his mother. Much later and with a shot glass of something strong.

* * *

"It's mine."

"Nuh-uh! It's mine!"

"Mine!"

"MINE!"

"NOOO! IT'S MINE!"

The latter is a wail followed by a loud bout of tears. When Pike comes to investigate, Pavel settles down to whimpering with big, fat tears dripping off of his pointed chin. It's almost adorable, if the kid's nose weren't so red and beginning to run with snot. Pike wipes the little nose with a handful of tissues. Then he addresses Pavel and a sulky Hikaru.

"What's going on?"

"Pavel took_ my_ cookie!"

"Pavel? Did you take Hikaru's cookie?"

The cherub-faced boy rubs at his eyes. "It's my cookie."

Hikaru responds with "Nuh-uh!"

Pike looks at the floor where the coveted but broken crème cookie lies amidst a scattering of crumbs. He sighs. He'll have to vaccum later. "You each received one cookie from Miss Rand."

Hikaru accuses, "Pavel eated his!"

"Ate," Pike corrects absently.

Pavel shakes his head fiercely and sticks a thumb in his mouth when Pike asks if he did indeed eat his own cookie.

"Well, because we cannot know the truth if one of you won't be honest, then no one gets this cookie." Pike sweeps it into his hand.

Hikaru's chin wobbles and he says, "'S NOT fair. I want my cookie!" When the boy begins to sniffle ominously, Pike looks at Pavel who is watching Hikaru with wide eyes.

"Dwon't cry, Hi-ka-ru!" Little Chekov looks pleadingly up at Pike. "It's Hi-ka-ru's cookie!"

"You should not lie, Pavel. It's not very nice and can have unpleasant consequences for other people." Pike straightens from his crouch. "You will have to earn back Hikaru's cookie. If you can tell the truth for the rest of the day, then I will give Hikaru a new cookie to take home with him."

Pike walks away from the boys, knowing that Pavel will think about on this particular lesson. He watches the two boys covertly as he helps Christine take down the box of building blocks from a shelf. Pavel has gone from peering into Hikaru's covered face to head-butting the other boy for a response. Yes, Pike knows, Chekov will try to do what's asked of him—if only to get Hikaru to forgive him. Considering how easily they have gotten along up until this point, Pike thinks that their friendship will weather this incident well.

Then he has to refocus his attention on Jimmy. (How unsurprising.) Kirk is attempting to woo McCoy into a circle of toys, with Kirk and Spock in the middle, by calling out at a rather high volume a long lisping list of gross and disturbingly morbid things that Leonard might find fascinating. It's amusing actually, because Pike knows that Jimmy's repertoire of ghastly knowledge is limited. Spock, on the other hand, is able to supply Jimmy with gorier details. Pike hears "The eyeball has a malleable exterior that when penetrated will emit a viscous fluid—"

Jimmy is making noises of appreciation, Nyota is making loud exclamations of "Gross!" and Lenny is listening while attempting to appear that he isn't listening and doesn't care.

Jan rolls her eyes and says she'll handle this one. Pike waves her on towards the group of future horror story-tellers and retreats to the other side of the room.

He used to think that some days were livelier than others. Now he wonders how it will feel to go back to a dull existence after living in a constant state of amusement, exasperation, dread, and heart palpitations.

Very strange, Pike imagines.


	8. Part Eight

**Part Eight**

* * *

Would Pike admit that he is grateful for this small break? Not in front of the children. Luckily, however, he is unable to face them today. Or perhaps not so luckily, as he feels awful—like his sinuses are going explode and his throat is on fire; but he's so feverish right now that he doesn't care.

A quick call to Janice.

"Hello, Jan? No, it's okay. No accident. What?" He chuckles, but the congestion warps the sound into something unpleasant. "No, it's not the mother of all hangovers."

I haven't drank like that since my college days, he doesn't gripe.

"Look, that tickle in my throat yesterday was the real deal. Calm down, Jan!" He coughs and groans. "I'll send you back-up, okay? What? I can't hear you say that louder, I think this ear's stopped up….. Oh. Yeah, it'll be him. Just, play nice. Mmhm. Alright. Bye."

Pike drags the comm-unit a little closer so that he can punch in another number. His aching body protests every movement.

The line says that it is connecting. No answer. Attempt 1 aborted. Buzz, no answer. Attempt 2 aborted. Finally, on the third call, a voice picks up the line and snaps irritably, "For God's sake, do you know what time it is?"

"Dropped your coffee pot again, Jon?"

There is the sound of slamming and curses.

"I'd call back once you've had your first cup and are a decent Human being, but—" He breaks off with a sudden chill and suppresses a moan of unhappiness.

"Chris, you sound like you've been on a three-day bender."

God, why does everyone assume he's been drinking?

"It's the flu!" he snarls.

"Oh. OH. Good Lord, Pike, call someone else. I'm busy."

"No you aren't. You haven't been busy for the last ten years. I need you to watch after my kids."

There is a sigh. Pike knows that Jonathan Archer is caving.

"At least tell me that you haven't run off the good-looking blonde you hired."

He makes a noise of exasperation. "No, I haven't. But I doubt she'll enjoy the attention of a man old enough to be her grandfather."

A sharp bark of laughter almost pops Pike's eardrum back to normal. "Unkind! You wound me! I'll do it, but not because I own half of the business. I'll do it for _you_, my friend."

Sure. Who does Jon think he's fooling?

Now how to get the old codger there on time? "Miss Rand makes a decent pot of coffee—if you're early enough."

"Fine, fine. I'm leaving. Let me just find my jacket and—"

"Jon, the pistol stays at home."

"Damn." There is a pause. "Well, I suppose I wouldn't want grubby little fingerprints on it anyway. It_ is_ an antique."

Pike snorts, then has to hastily find a tissue. "I don't want holes in the walls _or_ the children, Archer. Or to have to explain to upset parents why their progeny are scarred for life."

He doesn't mention that he is not really worried for the children, because Jon would most certainly be the one trying to blow his brains out by snack-time. Nope. Best not to mention that at all.

Pike feels devious. He likes it.

After managing to wrangle a promise from Jonathan to "be cordial" to the children, he flicks the communicator to silent-mode, tosses it off the end of the bed and rolls over, pulling a quilt over his head.

Ah, bliss. Sick, miserable but Jimmy-free bliss.

Poor stupid Archer won't know what hit him.

* * *

It's late afternoon by the time he wakes up and stumbles into his kitchen. Much banging around and hacking coughs ensue, but Chris is able to get a pot of broth going and some pieces of bread in the toaster. He hates replicated food with a passion. Thus why half of his yearly salary goes to bonafide grocery shopping and kitchen equipment.

Finally, feeling like a human being again—with at least a partially functioning body—he sighs over a cup of tea and shuffles back to his bedroom. He walks in and catches the tail end of his communicator vibrating madly against the wooden floor. He stares at it, uncomprehending.

It shuts off.

That's when he remembers that he sent Jon to Little Star. Oh shit.

The communicator displays a list of 9 missed calls and 9 equally red and glaring voicemail alerts.

He types a code and hits Play.

"_Message 1. Beeeep_. Have you passed out yet?" It's Jon's voice. Little wonder. "Well, this is just to let you know that I made it, so stop that blasted worrying I can feel from across the Bay. Your darlings will be along any minute—Oh hello there!" Jon's voice goes from normal to there's-a-female-in-the-room-HELL-YES. "Miss Rand, yes, I remember—Oh, er—perhaps some coffee—" There is mumbling and a low curse. Then the message goes "_End of message. Replay?"_

Pike chuckles, takes a sip of tea and deletes it. Jan remembers Archer from that one interview—well, incident in which Jon might have offended her with his chauvinistic attitude. (Jon couldn't make a decent first impression if his life depended on it.) But then again, that bit of temper and steel in Rand's backbone is one of the reasons he hired her in the first place.

"_Message 2. Beeeep_. Chris! Are you awake? I know it's been years since I've been in the classroom—" Muttered cursing and the sound of a door closing. "Okay, damn, finally a moment to myself. What the Hell kind of children are we accepting? I've just been bitten by an Orion rug-rat and… fuck, this is not a God-damn spaceship and I'm not a God-damn Captain's chair. If that boy Kurt-Krack-oh who cares, if _he_ tries to get into my lap one more—"

The message cuts off. Pike replays it once, grinning.

"_Message 3. Beeeep_. I think you tricked me. If you tricked me, Christopher, I've got a rifle with your name on it, you ass." There is a sharp exclamation in the background, followed by a familiar wave of high-pitched noises. "No, stop that! Ass is not a—okay, Miss Rand, I won't say anything f—er, I'll watch my language." Jon's voice is muffled. "That woman you hired is a harpy. I thought you said she was sweet! Look, that's not what I'm calling about. I've got a fat one here that's gotten a box of cookies from God knows where and—No, no. Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it when I called you fat, don't cry. It's—shit. SHIT!" A loud growl, that is distinctively Jon's mixed with the squeal _Meanie! _"No kicking! Look, kid—NO, YOU'RE NOT CAPTAIN AND I'M NOT INSULTING YOUR CREW—"

Hasty delete.

"_Message 4. Beeeep_. Chris, they're MONSTERS! One just ate an entire bottle of glue and do I look like I keep a stomach pump in my coat pocket? And—NO! Put that down! No one's cutting anyone's hair again!" The line crackles and Pike thinks he hears scuffling and shouts. Then Jon is back, panting. "Damn you, Pike, I'm too old for this. I—Oh hell. Alright, I'm coming!" The message cuts off.

He wonders if Jon will be needing an ambulance for ventricular distress.

"_Message 5. Beeeep_. I HATE YOU. FLU MY ASS. IF YOU DID THIS TO ME ON—No!" Jon's voice becomes distant, shouting "Give that back, okay, give back Mr. Archer his communicator…" Giggling filters in over Jon's wheedling voice. "Nuh-uh, it's mine!" Pike sits up straighter. That's definitely little Pavel. He almost flips the button to respond and tell Pavel to return the communicator when he catches himself and remembers that it is just a recording. Sounds of children screeching and playing can be heard in the background. Then "'Okay, no, don't run away. What's your name?' 'PAVEL!' 'Pavel, be a good boy and let Mr. Archer have his—' 'MINE!' 'NO, IT'S NOT—Hey, I'm not shouting okay? Do you want… what_ do_ you want in return for the, er, toy?'"

Pike coughs into a fist to keep his laughter at bay. Jon's a veteran who has negotiated with many enemies in the past, but he doubts that Archer will realize how unprepared he is to face down a genius, baby-faced four-year-old.

He deletes that message too.

Message 6 is nonsensical shouting and perhaps a bit of crying. That it is Jon, who sounds hysterical, tells Pike that Mr. Archer did indeed successfully re-acquire his "toy" from Pavel Chekov. At what cost, though?

"_Message 7. Beeeep_." It starts with a loud shuddering sigh and "First, I have jello down my pants. Do you know how uncomfortable that is?" Pike laughs so hard that he misses the rest of the message and has to replay it. "…I don't know whether to be shocked that they enjoy nap-time or to get down on my knees and pray that they'll sleep until their parents come back. Damn, Chris, I'm really am too old for this. There's a reason I'm retired, you know." A pause, a moment of silence. "They—your kids—are something else. Jimmy keeps asking where you are, and I think he called me a Klingon spy when I said I was your temporary replacement. Last time I checked, Klingons didn't have to suffer through the interrogation of babes." Another sigh. Pike almost feels sympathetic for his long-time friend and business partner. "Janice tells me that I'm not allowed to take my communicator onto the playground because I can't be distracted from watching the children. ...I'm screwed, aren't I?"

The voicemail cuts out. Probably Jon hanging up in order to bang his head on Pike's desk. Chris is surprised that the man has managed to last most of the morning. (It's a good thing that the pistol is at home after all.)

"_Message 8. Beeeep._ Hello, Chris, I hope you're feeling better." It's Jan's voice. Pike's gut does a sudden unhappy flop; he can't decide if it's protesting the soup or if it knows that Janice calling on Jon's communicator cannot be anything but bad. She sounds tired. "When you get this, don't overreact. Mr. Archer's fine—everyone's fine. There was a… misunderstanding between Jimmy and Mr. Archer, and—" She breaks off, makes a noise that Pike suspects is a stifled laugh. "Mr. Archer might be sporting some rather impressive bruises. Nothing serious. If we're lucky the Captain may have taught him manners!" Wow, she_ does_ has an issue with Jonathan. They may have to discuss that later. "I'm sorry but I have to go. Nyota is still upset that girls weren't allowed to participate in the—um—capture of the Klingon. She's using Jimmy for target practice. Please get better, Chris! The kids really miss you."

Message 9 is short and to the point. Jon tells him in a world-weary voice, "They've returned to their lairs. The galaxy is safe… until morning. You owe me."

Yes, he does. He also wonders how Jon is going to take the news that Pike needs at least another day of convalescence. Probably not well.

Maybe he can pacify Jon by suggesting that Porthos visit the children tomorrow, for distraction. Children love dogs, right?


	9. Part Nine

**Part Nine**

* * *

Pike ended up staying out for the rest of the week—only two days total—and enjoying the weekend when he was awake enough to savor it. He also spent a majority of his hours avoiding Jon's comms. But he couldn't ignore the pounding on his front door early Sunday morning.

Jon is scowling fiercely when he answers and marches into Pike's living room. Then whirls around with the accusation, "You've been ignoring me."

"Well, the last time we spoke I couldn't hear myself think because you were screaming so loud."

"THEY STOLE MY PORTHOS!"

"Jon, that's not likely. How could a bunch of knee-high toddlers steal your old dog?"

Archer's face is reddening at a rapid pace. "It was the fat one. I know it, he was eyeing my sweet beagle." Jon throws himself onto the couch, reminiscent of Jimmy in the middle of a tantrum. "My poor Porthos! Forced to endure those drool-covered, poking fingers—"

"Oh, stop the histronics. And I don't appreciate the term 'fat,' Jon, you know that. I won't have my children neurotic at an early age. Besides Scotty isn't fat, he's…"

"Been stealing too many boxes of cookies? I still can't figure out where in Hell he gets 'em!"

Pike sits across from Archer. "That's another thing, Jon. What in the world possessed you to use that kind of language in a pre-school?"

The other man mumbles. Pike doesn't let up. "Did you know I've had no less than three calls from parents this weekend? Jimmy's mother had company over on Friday night and you know what that boy called the man? An ASS."

Jon chuckles, then quickly clamps a hand over his mouth to smother his laughter at Pike's glare.

"Then Dr. McCoy wants to know why his six-year-old thinks God-damn is an appropriate adjective to use in every other phrase." Pike throws up his hands and leans into his recliner. "And Nyota… Oh God. Mrs. Uhura was so angry that I was desperate to remember if I'd given the woman my home address at some point."

Jon grunts, "That why you removed your spare key from under that potted plant?"

"Yes," he admits.

"You know, I actually liked the McCoy kid. Despite that he repeatedly asked me how old my corpse was. I know I'm old but I'm not a zombie for Christ's sake!"

Pike moans and whimper-laughs.

Jon sighs. "I just want my dog back. Last I saw him, that—" Pike glares again. "—Scotty kid had Porthos' leash and was leading him in circles around the sandbox."

Pike says with sincerity, "I am sorry, Jon. Truly. Maybe Porthos was just as frightened as you were and ran for his life. We can put up flyers in the area, ask neighbors if they've seen him."

Archer nods somewhat despondently. They sit in silence for a few minutes. Then Chris's comm shrills with an incoming call.

"Pike here."

"Oh, Mr. Pike! I—I hope I'm not disturbing you." Pike sits up. It's Winona. "Winona, what's the matter? Is Jimmy alright?"

Jon's eyebrows shoot up.

"He's fine." There is a hesitation over the line. "Well, he's fine physically but he's… upset."

Pike frowns. "I don't see what I can do, Winona—"

"He thinks you're dead. He's refusing to come out of his closet."

"Dead?"

"I know. I can't understand why in the world he has that idea. I mean, Jimmy seemed okay—for the most part, maybe a tad more of a handful than usual—but honestly, I'm stumped. I triggered somthing when I asked him if he was excited about going back to Little Star tomorrow."

Ah. "He doesn't think I'll be there," Pike sighs. "Can you switch me to vid?"

The immediate silence astonishes him. Then Winona says in a soft voice, "Chris, I—I can't really afford, I'm sorry—"

He clears his throat. "It's no trouble, Ms. Kirk. Let's hang up and I'll call you right back."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Now, just a moment—" He disconnects the call.

As Pike is redialing Ms. Kirk's household on a vid-link, Jon interrupts with "Chris, if I didn't know better—"

"Not now, Jon." Winona picks up and her face comes into view. She's wearing an oversized sweater and her hair is pulled back into a messy bun. He smiles and says quietly, "Think you can get Jimmy over here?"

She smiles ruefully. "I'll try. Hold on."

Jon has scooted over to peer at the screen. Pike pushes him away and tells him to mind his own business. Jon's hands go up in a gesture of surrender. "Not my fault the kid thinks you're six feet under."

Pike's glare instantly transforms to tenderness when Winona comes back in view with a familiar figure clutching at her neck. The boy won't be persuaded to turn around.

"Hey, Jimmy." Pike calls softly. "It's Mr. Pike."

That blond head shakes fiercely.

"Yes, it is. _James_," he puts a bit of parental steel in his voice. Jimmy finally takes a peek at the screen.

"Mr. Pwike?"

"Yes, son."

"You're not dead?"

"No. I've had a cold, and I couldn't come to class and make you sick. Do you understand?"

The boy sniffles. "So you're weally not dead?"

"No, Jimmy, I'm not dead."

"Oh."

Pike leans forward on his elbows. "Did someone tell you that I was dead, Jimmy?"

"Nooo…"

"James." He keeps his voice low.

"Bwones said that p-people go away 'cuz they're dead." The boy turns back into his mother's shoulder. She pats his back soothingly.

Pike meets Winona's eyes. Then he says, "Jimmy, Leonard is not entirely correct. Sometimes people go away because they have other important things to do. I had to make myself better, so that I could come back to look after you and your friends."

It's quiet but he hears Jimmy's "Okay."

"Now I want you to be a good boy for your mother. Can you do that?"

Jimmy says "Yeah."

"Tomorrow I'll see you at Little Star."

"Okay." Then "Mr. Pwike?"

"Yes, Jimmy?"

"Is that K-Kling'n coming back too?"

He chuckles. "No."

"I don't wike him. He's mean."

Pike smiles over the top of the comm at the scowling Jon who mutters "Tell Kirk the feeling's mutual."

"Well, Jimmy, I heard that you weren't nice to him either."

The boy squirms in his mother's arms as if he wants to get down. He probably does, if only to get away from Pike's impending lecture.

Pike decides to spare him—and Winona—for the time being. "But we'll talk about proper behavior in the morning. See you bright and early, son. Bye-bye."

"Buh-bye!"

Pike cuts the link.

Jon is lazing long-ways on his couch with a bottle of brandy that Pike is positive had been locked in his liquor cabinet. If Archer thinks Scotty is a little thief, then that is surely the pot calling the kettle black.

"I assume that you plan to share that bottle, since it's mine."

"You owe me" is Jon's rejoinder. "'Sides, this will be only be a small portion of the debt I plan to collect and—" Jon fixes an evil eye on him. "—you owe me big, Pike. You owe me a dog."

Pike is about to roll his eyes when he stops, stares at Archer. Narrows his eyes and stares harder. Archer's free hand automatically and self-consciously goes up to his hair.

"Is that a bald patch?"

Jon grimaces. "You ever been attacked by rabid toddlers, Pike? They're vicious. Crazy and—" He takes a swig of Pike's brandy straight from the bottle. "—_vicious_."

Pike smirks and grabs for the bottle. "At least you've had your shots for that, old man."

At Jon's wide-eyed, panicked look, Pike bursts out laughing.

**

* * *

**

I had to give ya'll this short after-scene to Part Eight. I'll admit that this story is getting out of hand. I hadn't expected to write more than a couple of parts for laughs… but I can see now that Playtime wants to take over the world. :) Good luck to us all.


	10. Part Ten

**Part Ten**

* * *

Lenny McCoy is the first child to arrive on Monday morning, as his father is often needed on shift at early hours. It is not uncommon, then, for Pike to be in the middle of his morning cup of coffee and a debriefing with Janice on the day's activities when Dr. McCoy comes rushing down the hall with a sullen or sleepy boy in tow. Lenny will accept his father's goodbye kiss with all the dignity of a child who thinks kissing is stupid and then proceed to sulk or nap next to Pike until other children begin to arrive some thirty to forty minutes later.

This morning, on Pike's first day back from a very brief sick leave, Lenny takes one look at his teacher and says, "I thought you were dead."

So Jimmy wasn't making it up, Pike thinks. Not that he had doubted the toddler because Lenny is, in fact, very likely to tell Jimmy something that will make him upset. Only it seems that Lenny believed his words himself. Interesting.

"Nope," he replies mildly and sips at his black coffee.

The boy is silent for all of five seconds. "So you aren't dead?"

His eyebrow goes up. "Last time I checked, I was as alive as you, Leonard. Why do you ask?"

Lenny shrugs. "Pa says it's always good to be prepared for the worst."

"The saying goes, 'Be prepared for the worst but hope for the best'" Pike explains.

The boy grunts. Pike understands that children—and not to mention some adults—only hear what they want to and ignore the rest. So he sighs and pulls a chair over to his desk. McCoy slides into it and props up his head on a fist. He looks incredibly bored.

Janice had discovered that they were low on juice boxes so she'd gone for a quick run to the nearest grocery store. Pike was just enjoying his last minutes of solitude when Dr. McCoy had thrust his boy through the doorway with "Be good, Len. See you this afternoon."

"I liked Mr. Archer."

Pike almost spits out his mouthful of coffee. Instead it goes down the wrong way and he has to choke into a handkerchief for some minutes before he can reply. "You did?"

"Sure. He yelled a lot and made Jimmy mad. It was cool."

Pike sighs. "Believe it or not, Leonard, Mr. Archer is a retired school teacher."

Lenny snickers. "He's older 'n my grandpa and Grandpa's _old_."

His smile is amused, because truth be told, Archer is probably younger than Lenny's grandfather. The man just turned 60 a few weeks ago. That, of course, is ancient to most children. Pike himself feels more than a tad depressed because he is three years away from forty and twenty more years isn't actually all that long. He rubs his forehead.

"I'm glad that someone liked Mr. Archer. But Lenny, if you liked him, perhaps you should have tried to get along with him rather than aiding Jimmy in making Mr. Archer miserable."

"Just 'cuz I like him doesn't mean I hafta be nice, Mr. Pike," Lenny informs him gravely.

Really? Then Pike feels sorry for Leonard McCoy's future friends—and, God forbid, the person the boy eventually falls in love with. He hopes others learn to live with—or at least tolerate—McCoy's budding quirks.

He settles for making a noncommittal noise and hands Lenny a puzzle with which to entertain himself. Lenny frowns at the puzzle and eyes Pike's cup of coffee instead. Christopher is wise enough to walk away from the desk, taking his coffee with him.

Thirty more minutes and then the day truly begins.

* * *

Everybody is happily trying to rearrange a series of block letters into the Standard alphabet when there is a knock on the door. Children immediately scramble from their seats. Pike halts the mad rush with "FREEZE!" Under the guise of a game phrase, the word is useful enough to stop disaster in its tracks. Not that the little ones know that; they only think that they earn Ice Cream Points—a system whereby after twenty-five accumulated ice cream points everybody gets an ice cream party (barring birthdays, of course). Spock, in particular, is adept at pulling a wayward child back into line. (That Vulcan loves his strawberry ice cream.)

Janice sticks her head out the door to greet the visitor. Then her body stiffens and when Rand turns around, she barks, "For you, Mr. Pike."

Pike watches her return to the front of the room, weaving between still-frozen wide-eyed children. When he opens the door fully, there is Jonathan grinning like a madman. Before Pike can protest, Archer sweeps past him into the classroom.

The children collectively gasp—a few shriek—and Jimmy breaks form. Then it's a mad tumble as everyone else does too. Some children run back to their tables, crawling under them; from the corner of his eye, Pike sees Scotty dragging a worn, oversized stuffed dog behind the art cabinet. Christine and Pavel are wailing and clinging to Janice's skirt. (He wouldn't doubt that they are in some secret sort of contest for who can cry the loudest.) But it's Jimmy who comes charging head-first into Archer's legs like an enraged bull.

Archer goes down with a yelp and an undignified flailing of his arms. Jimmy is kicking at the old man's legs, face red. Pike swoops in to save Archer from Destruction by Toddler.

"NOO! KLING'N! BAD KLING'N!" The boy shouts and struggles mightily. It's all Pike can do to keep a grip on him.

"_SILENCE!" _The teacher's uncharacteristic bellow cracks like a whip through the air.

The screaming subsides. Even Jimmy goes limp in Pike's arms. Archer is clutching his shins, dividing his breath between cursing and moaning.

"Jon, _be quiet_," Pike grounds out between his teeth. He marches over to a nearby table and puts Kirk into a chair. "Do not move from this spot, James," he orders. The boy's eyes are glittering. With rage, Pike suspects.

Pike then marches back over to Jon Archer, grabs him by a jacket lapel and hauls the man to his feet. And shoves him out of the classroom, closing the door behind them. Archer limps to the side door of Pike's office, Chris in close attendance. He engages all the locks before turning on his friend.

"What is the matter with you!"

"Me?" Jon says, shocked. "You mean what's the matter with those kids! Hell, you'd think I was the bogeyman. Lord forbid, did you see how that crazy Kirk jumped on me?" Jon rubs a kneecap, his face bright red.

Chris crosses his arms and settles on a corner of his office desk. This is a room used for formal appointments with parents and to handle the paperwork that comes along with being part owner of a business. Most of the children know that if they see the inside of this office, they must be in serious trouble with Mr. Pike.

There is a headache growing behind his eyes and it's only ten o'clock in the morning. "Why are you here, Jon?" he asks tiredly.

The man is silent for a moment. "Beats me, really. You'd think after all that 'attention' I received last week, I wouldn't want any more. But I-I was bored this morning and the apartment was so damn quiet…"

Pike stares at him. "Jon," he says slowly, "are you saying that you _miss_ them?"

"I'm insane, right? Knew it was going to happen sooner or later," the man mutters.

Pike half-laughs out of sheer incredulity. "I spent yesterday morning watching you get plastered. Didn't you dedicate each shot to a reason why you were thankful to be retired?" He quotes in an unnerving good impression of Jon's voice, "'This one's for no James _Ti-bear-ee-us _Kirk—the little terror.' 'Oh, and this one's for not having to listen to that Vulcan list my faults in light of your superior teaching, Pike. I swear, if I have to hear _You are illogical. Mr. Pike would not allow this_ one more time, I'll puke!'"

The man had almost puked after drinking half of Pike's good quality brandy. Such a waste.

Jon rakes a hand through his hair and stares too long at his empty hand. "It doesn't fall out," he comments absently. "Just keeps getting grayer."

"You and me both," Pike sighs. "Alright, you can come back in. Give me a minute to calm everyone down and keep them from climbing the walls again."

Jon nods. Pike would almost think that the man looks forlorn. But he quickly dispels that idea and heads back to his kids for a stern talking-to.

Jimmy is still sitting down (a minor miracle in Pike's opinion), bumping the heels of his shoes angrily against the chair legs. Pike calls everyone to the center rug and releases Kirk from his imprisonment.

"You are not a bunch of wild animals," he tells them, frown in place. "I expect that when a guest comes to Little Star—no matter _who_ it is—that you will act politely. Do you understand me?" Some heads nod obediently; others just stare at him like he is speaking gibberish.

"And the one thing I _do not_ want anyone to do is ATTACK a guest. James, I am extremely disappointed in your uncivilized behavior. A Captain, in particular, sets an example for the rest of his crew. Just now, you made a very poor example." The boy won't look at him, but Pike cannot afford to feel regret. Every child that comes to Little Star must understand that there are boundaries of acceptable and unacceptable behavior. Well, given their young age, Pike might be willing to overlook one or two incidents of silliness or exuberance, but he will not tolerate violence in any form. It's best that they learn this lesson here, rather than be allowed to develop habits that will land them in trouble down the road.

"Now," he makes his voice as cool as possible, "Mr. Archer is our guest today." Pike wishes Jon had told him beforehand, because this morning's scene might have been avoided if he'd known in advance and prepared the children. "I expect everyone to be nice to him."

A hand goes up.

"Yes, Hikaru?"

The boy shoots a hesitant glance at Jimmy before speaking. "What if we don't like Mr. Archer?"

Pike cocks his head. "Why wouldn't you like Mr. Archer?"

Sulu squirms under his intense stare. "I don't know…"

"Then you cannot dislike a man if you do not have a reason. Mr. Archer was kind enough to come here and look after you when I couldn't. I called him personally to ask for that favor and he obliged me. I am _grateful _to Mr. Archer. The next time I—or Janice—cannot be here at Little Star, it is likely that Mr. Archer shall come instead."

Several children look surprised at this piece of news.

Jimmy sniffles, wipes his nose on the back of his hand. "Maybe you can always be here, Mr. Pwike," the boy offers tentatively.

"I'm sorry, Jimmy," he says gently. "That is a promise I cannot make. I can only say that I will try my best."

The boy slumps.

An idea occurs to him. "I will tell you a secret about Mr. Archer, if you promise to listen closely."

That has the effect of immediately perking up many pairs of ears.

"Mr. Archer used to teach children a lot older than you at a very big school. That was a long, long time ago." Not so long—ten years—and Pike doubts that Archer has lost his teaching skills in that time. Jonathan was renowned in his district for his innovative lesson plans. Kids loved him and his grumpy personality.

"So he not only has forgotten what it is like being around children—" Pike grins on the inside. Feels no qualms about throwing Archer to the wolves. "—but he isn't used to caring for young ones like yourselves. Do you think that you could help him out today?"

Some look interested; some seem apprehensive.

"For me, your poor old teacher?" he adds. At a wave of solemn nods, Pike does a little mental cheer in his head. "Okay. Then let's greet Mr. Archer the nice way this time."

He goes out into the hall and tells Jon try to look like a kindly old grandfather when he enters. Then he pauses, adjusts his eyeglasses and asks smoothly, "What was that about a debt, Archer?"

The man eyes him warily. "What debt?"

"Exactly."

If Jonathan is surprised that Jimmy strolls up to him sedately and announces "I's very sworry," then he doesn't say a word to anyone. Then Spock, esteemed and proper, asks Mr. Archer if he would like to be escorted. Jon agrees dumbly while Pike has to turn away to wipe at his tears of restrained laughter.

Janice approaches Pike, watching Archer being lead around by Spock and introduced to the children one-by-one. Christine curtsies prettily for the old man. "I don't know how you do it, Chris, but I am always amazed at your finesse."

"Experience, Jan," he tells her. "Ample years of experience. And I'm still learning," he admits.

"I think we both are," she replies. They share a knowing smile and, as a team, set about cleaning up the havoc left in the wake of their children.


	11. Part Eleven

**Part Eleven**

* * *

When the going gets tough… try not to think of reasons to give up. Pike starts compiling a list in his head as he limps around the snack table and passes out popsicles:

_1. They're just kids._

He's had this mantra in his head since the end of that first, spectacularly eye-opener of a day. It lost impact rather rapidly.

_2. The parents trust him to do his job._

Okay, so he's not in this for what the parents think. Pike would say that he is important to the children—that means more to him anyway—but he suspects that even as their teacher, his standing is barely above that of a slave.

Captain Jimmy demands a second grape popsicle for his crew member Scotty (who does something important but nobody's figured out what that important thing is yet).

_3. The pay is decent._

Truth being that he doesn't get paid enough to handle this bunch AND that the money is going into an account to fund his future psychiatric appointments when all's said and done (with Jimmy standing triumphant and proud on top of a gibbering wreck of a Mr. Pike).

_4. He hasn't given up on a challenging class in fifteen years, so why should he start now?_

Oh, that particular _why_-list is longer than this pep talk. Reason Number One is that no sane man should have to fear falling asleep in his own home because he has nightmares in which skyscraper-tall toddlers named James T. Kirk are chasing, catching, and hurling him some distance only to repeat the exercise. Pike shudders as he gives Spock a strawberry-flavored popsicle. The baby Vulcan eyes the treat disdainfully before using his masterfully strong arm and perfect aim to chuck it into the sink across the room. Christopher sighs and moves on.

Bascially, he is having a "trying" day. Those days seem to alternate between him and Rand, who is currently patting Jimmy's head and wiping at the melted blue puddles staining the boy's shirt. Jimmy has always accepted female attention well, and if Pike didn't know any better, he'd say that the boy is basking in it.

That brings him to #5.

_5. Winona Kirk needs him to be a controlling influence over her son._

Pike thinks that he is failing miserably. Then, almost out-of-the-blue, Jimmy will actually listen to something Pike says—or rants about—and act… reasonably normal. When that happens, Christopher is always thrown for a loop... and rather proud. At one point, he contemplated running home to grab that last celebratory cigar and light it up.

Then the Captain had blinked at his teacher, slowly turned around, dashed away with a bellow of "Bwones!" and tried to climb the boy's back like a monkey. Which had the immediate effect of setting off a McCoy-tantrum too early in the week. Pike had managed to sufficiently pry Lenny's grip from Jimmy's hair so that Kirk could stop drowning in an over-sized tub of colored foam balls. Spock, who had been watching this display of base Human nature, had tilted his head and said "Fascinating" directly at Leonard. McCoy went slack in Pike's grip, his face turning back to a normal shade, and replied, "Only if Jimmy hada died, Spock."

Pike spent the better part of the afternoon explaining to Lenny why killing people who annoyed him was NOT fascinating and entirely wrong. Seeming to get nowhere, Christopher had said as a last resort, "You would go to jail. You don't want that, do you, Leonard?"

The boy had looked thoughtful. "I guess not."

And Pike gave up on the conversation thereafter.

So maybe Pike should rephrase #5 to say:

_5. Winona needs Christopher NOT to quit because she'd have no time for a life of her own._

Now that he thinks about it, perhaps that is the case for all of the children's parents. And thus the real question becomes: is Pike selfless enough?

"Mr. Pike!"

"Mr. Pwike!"

"Misterrr… Piiike!"

He shoves down a bubble of hysterical laughter and addresses his children at large. "Yes?"

Galia bats her eyes. "Is it Playtime yet?" her sweet voice chirps.

He swallows. "Yes. Yes, it is but don't—"

The children completely ignore him and knock over chairs in their hasty departure for the outdoors. Rand follows them at a sedater pace, turning once to glance back at her fellow adult.

"It's okay, Chris, I'll take today's guard duty. Just rest your leg." Then she disappears into the sound of childish screams and laughter.

He bends over, rights a tiny chair and eases himself into it. The chair wobbles precariously under his weight. Pike closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face.

No, he isn't going to quit. Today may be a terrible—unfortunate knee injury—day but there is one more reason to remain, the most important reason of all.

_6. He loves each and every one of them._

As Jonathan will probably say to him later, when he rings up the man for short notice assistance and explains the situation, "Oh woe as you, my dear friend. You're screwed."

* * *

Short interlude. Pike deserves a round of applause for all his hard work. Act Two soon to come! (aka Part Twelve)


	12. Part Twelve

**Part Twelve**

* * *

"I need you to be honest with me, Hikaru. Where did you put Miss Rand's purse?"

"I don't know," Sulu says, staring at the ground.

"Yes, you do." Pike lowers his voice just a margin. "Hikaru, it's not nice to take people's things. You didn't like it when Pavel took your cookie, remember?"

The boy shakes his head and shrugs at the same time.

Chris sighs and switches his approach. "Hikaru, I order you to tell me where it is_. Right now_, young man!"

Hikaru knuckles an eye. "I wasn't tryin' to make Miss Rand mad! Chrissy said she needed a purse 'cuz she was a girl 'n Miss Rand's got a purty one—"

Pike places his hands on Sulu's shoulder. "Enough," he says quietly. "You gave the purse to Christine. That's all I needed to know. Now, you see Miss Rand over there?" The boy nods. "Go tell her that you're sorry you took her purse." He sends Hikaru off in Janice's direction and heads towards the little blonde girl playing tea with Pavel and Nyota.

"Christine, come here."

She blinks wide eyes up at him. Pavel and Nyota are watching the unfolding scene with curiosity. Nyota absently picks up an orange play-doh biscuit and puts it on Pavel's plastic plate. Pike, fortunately, is playing enough attention to tell Pavel to put it down, that nibbling on that biscuit will make him very sick to his stomach.

Pike refocuses on Christine Chapel, who is the perfect picture of innocence. "Christine, Hikaru gave you Miss Rand's purse. Where is it? Miss Rand needs it back."

She smiles at him happily and skips off. When she returns, Janice's purse is clutched in both of her hands. Pike takes it and tells the little girl that she shouldn't keep other peoples' belongings unless they give permission first. Christine seems unfazed by his sternness.

Hikaru runs past him as Pike sets Jan's purse down on the counter. Rand thanks him and snaps it open. When she looks back up, she is holding a large wallet.

"Well, my wallet's safe. Everything else is gone!" She chucks her wallet back into her purse, places her hands on her hips and gives the entire room a glare.

Pike rubs at his forehead. "What are you missing, Jan?"

"My communicator, a makeup bag… oh, I don't know," she says with frustration. "I don't exactly keep a list of all the things in my purse, Mr. Pike!"

"Okay, calm down. I'll handle it." He walks a few steps away from the counter and calls, "Attention!" The general hub-bub of children entertaining themselves dies down. "To the center rug!" Items immediately get dropped as kids scurry to grab a good seat for whatever show is about to commence.

Pike marches over to them and motions for Janice to follow. Rand stands beside him, a mostly empty purse in hand.

"There were items in Miss Rand's purse that are now missing. I don't care at this point who took what. I want everyone who has something that doesn't belong to them to come up to the front and put that item or items beside the purse." He gives them all a general no-nonsense look. "If Miss Rand's things are not returned, I will call each of you up to the front and search you. Understand?"

Heads bob.

"Okay. Form a line."

Jimmy is at the head of the line, as usual. (Captain leads.)

"Jimmy. Let's go." Pike points to the purse and the boy trots up front and center to stare at it. He pulls out an object from his jumper pocket and places it gently on the ground. Then runs off.

Pike picks it up. It's a paperweight of an eagle from his desk. Well, that certainly doesn't belong to Miss Rand. He slips it into his sweater pocket.

"Spock."

The Vulcan walks up and eyes his teacher with an eyebrow raised, about-faces and goes back to his spot at the corner of the rug. Pike feels as if he has just been silently reprimanded from even contemplating the idea that a Vulcan would steal.

One by one, he calls the children to the front and a pile of items grow on the floor. Lenny tosses down Jan's communicator with the simple explanation "Ta call fer policemen." When it is Pavel's turn, the boy says a small "Sworry" and runs off only to come back with a fist full of crayons and a fork missing two tongs that he'd stowed away in a box of puppy puzzle pieces. Pike sighs.

Gaila grins at Janice, bright red lipstick and blush on her face, then offers Miss Rand the missing make-up bag with a giggle. (Later, Jan will tell Pike that she never did recover her powder kit.) Scotty is the last one to toddle up to them, never looking up from his shoes. He wipes his nose on the back of his sleeve, removes one cookie from a pants pocket, another cookie from the top of his sock, and a yellow highlighter from inside his shirt.

After the children are reseated, Pike stares at the pile of stolen goods—most of which Rand claims don't belong to her but obviously belong to either Pike or Little Star (and also what he suspects are two buttons from Jon's favorite jacket). He wonders if he should implement body searching into the end-of-the-day routine.

At the very least, Chris thinks that he ought to prepare a lecture on "Why stealing makes Mr. Pike and Miss Rand unhappy." Everybody has vacated the center rug to return to their chosen activities, no doubt to refill their little pockets with goodies. It occurs to him later that there are probably more than a few decent hiding spots on the playground too. Some weekend, he shall enlist Jon to help him scour the grounds (even dig in the sandbox) for things that only small children would consider treasure.

* * *

Wednesday afternoon turns into a stressful Wednesday night. The San Francisco air is now cooler in the evening and Pike helps Nyota into her jacket.

"Mama's not coming?" the girl says pitifully.

"No, sweetheart. Your mother said your big brother would come get you as soon as he could. Until then, you need to stay with me. Is that okay?"

"I guess so." She is trying not to cry, that much is obvious.

Pike had sent Jan home early and offered to stay with the last child, Nyota, at Little Star. When an hour had passed and no one had come to get Nyota, he'd pulled out his list of emergency contacts. Just then, a call came through from Mrs. Uhura. Nyota's father had been in an accident and she was at the hospital, waiting on news.

Pike did what any good teacher does. He offered to watch Nyota until arrangements could be made, to take her to a relative if need be or the hospital if Mrs. Uhura preferred that. The woman—who sounded upset even through the phone—said that if he'd just look after Nyota for a while longer, her eldest son was on his way to San Francisco and would pick her up.

Chris gave her his home address, several ways in which to reach him and broke that one rule he'd believed was a line that shouldn't be crossed. He let Mrs. Uhura speak to her daughter for a moment and prepared to leave Little Star. When Nyota handed his communicator back to him, her eyes were wide and she looked uncertain. When he said, as gently as he could, that she was going to stay with him at his house, the little girl did not make much comment. Mrs. Uhura had told her then. That was good. The last thing he needed was a distraught, terrified child under the impression she was being kidnapped by someone she trusted.

They are currently in his kitchen and Nyota is watching him make hot chocolate. The sun has almost set and Pike wonders if he'll have to whip up dinner for a six-year-old.

He clears his throat and tries to keep the conversation as soothing as possible. "Do you like marshmallows in your hot chocolate, Nyota?"

She nods, silently shredding a napkin at his kitchen table. Normally the girl isn't this quiet, but he doesn't blame her one bit.

Pike sets a mug in front of her. "It's hot. Give it a minute to cool."

She nods again.

"Are you cold?"

She's still wearing her jacket, probably more for security than anything.

She manages a small "No."

Chris sighs, takes off his glasses and sets them to the side. He blows on his own mug and watches the steam rise.

"My daddy wears glasses."

Pike smiles softly. "Does he?"

"Mama tries to make him get the eye su-surg—"

"—surgery. Yes, glasses are… unusual these days."

"Daddy says glasses make him special from everybody else."

"Your father is a man after my own heart." When Nyota scrunches up her nose at that statement, he explains, "I like your father's idea. That's why I wear my glasses too."

"But if Daddy wears glasses and you wear glasses, then how can Daddy be specialer than you?"

Pike grins. "Nyota, honey, your daddy's more special than I am for the simple reason that he has you as his little girl."

That earns him a tiny but genuine smile. Then she asks, "Is he gonna be okay, Mr. Pike?"

"I'm sure that he will, Nyota. San Francisco has very good doctors. They will look after your father. I know it."

She reaches out and pulls the mug closer to her, leaning over it. "My marshmallows are all melted."

Pike brings her the entire bag and lets her choose the "fluffier" ones. They share a sweet silence as they drink their hot chocolate. Eventually Pike distracts Nyota by asking her if she has decided to like Jimmy yet.

"He's bossy," she announces haughtily. "And his fingers are really really sticky."

Pike knows. Every time he pulls Captain Jimmy to the side to wipe his hands, the boy somehow manages to find something gooey, filthy or both within the hour.

"But you agreed to be part of his crew."

"I serve under Capt'n Jimmy," she says with pride. "I like Capt'n Jimmy."

Apparently there's a difference between the two that adults like Pike cannot understand.

"And I—I'm in charge of talking to people," Nyota adds. "'Cause Capt'n Jimmy says I'm good at talking to everybody."

He uses his mug to hide his smile. "I'm sure Captain Jimmy is right, Nyota. You'd make a fine… communications officer."

She accepts his praise with dignity and a grin that shows the missing gap between two baby teeth.

The evening lingers, and by the time that Nyota is nodding on his couch while Pike reads a book, his door buzzer goes off rather loudly in the calm silence. Nyota wakes up, blinking her eyes. At the sound of her brother's voice, she bursts into tears and has the young man's legs in an instantaneous death grip. Between the two of them, Nyota is calmed down and readied for returning home. Pike stands in the doorway, watching them go; the street light illuminates the small girl clinging to the man's jacket, legs dangling as she's carried away. He shivers in the cold air and goes back inside for warmth.

Nyota isn't at Little Star the next day and the day after that. When Chris comes home, prepared to leave immediately for the hospital, to check up on Nyota and her family, his communicator sounds. It is Mrs. Uhura with tears on her face and a bright-eyed Nyota in her lap crowing, "Mr. Pike! Daddy's gonna be okay!"

He congratulates them both and, upon hanging up, weeps like a child.


	13. Part Thirteen

**Part Thirteen**

* * *

"—in place of a hand was a hook! AHHH!"

"Jon!"

"What?"

"Stop scaring them. Do I have to remind you of last time—"

"No no. Okay. Sorry." Jon turns back to his wide-eyed and silent (traumatized) audience. "Sorry, kids, no hook."

"Bwut how will Mr. S-Se-Cereal Kwiller catch the bad people?"

"They're not bad people," Lenny tells Jimmy indignantly. "They're good people. _He's _the _bad _guy. He eats 'em."

Jimmy blinks. Christine starts to cry on Scotty's shoulder who looks befuddled. Nyota says "Gross!" Spock is blank-faced (which means he's bored).

Pike drops his briefcase on his desk and drags Jon up by the back of his shirt. "Go do something helpful, Archer. There's a stack of drawings on my desk that need posting on the bulletin board."

Archer whines, "I haven't finished the story."

"Storytime's over."

A chorus of protests—including the tearful Christine—rise up like a den of howls.

"Mr. Pwike! Mr. Kling'n didn't finish!"

"Right..." Jon grins wolfishly. "Jack the Ripper carved up—" At Pike's sharp pinch, he corrects himself hastily, "—invited all his victims to a lovely dinner and they lived happily ever after."

Good God. This is the last time he invites Jon to educate the children on fairy tales. Not that he'd imagined Archer sitting there talking about how the prince kissed the sleeping princess (so forth and so on) but, for a moment, the imagery had been too hilarious to pass up. Next time Janice has a doctor's appointment, he'll make Archer sit in the back and organize the broken crayons by size.

"Time for naps!" Pike announces cheerfully.

The mats are already out in rows. Scotty is the first one to hustle over to a spot and lie down. He's out like a light. Jimmy runs up to Jonathan instead.

"If I go to sweep, will Jack t'Rwipper eat me?"

Jon leans down and Pikes clears his throat. He shoots Chris a nasty glare as if to say _I wasn't going to agree, I'm not THAT much of a heartless bastard_. "No, Kirk. Jack the Ripper doesn't eat little boys."

"Oh."

"_Jon._"

Archer grumbles under his breath and takes Jimmy's hand, leading him over to his mat next to Lenny's (as Kirk always insists on sleeping next to Bwones). Spock is already on the opposite side, on his back with eyes closed and hands folded across his chest. McCoy calls it The Dead-Vulcan Pose. Spock finds this name highly illogical and refuses to succumb to peer pressue and nap on his stomach like Lenny. Pike is of the opinion that Spock meditates himself into a nap.

Jon says, "Go to sleep, kid. No one'll get you little runts while Mr. Pike and Mr. Archer are on guard duty."

"Okay."

Jimmy rolls onto his side, scoots as close to the edge of the mat as possible towards Lenny and calls "Bwones?"

"What?" comes the annoyed grunt. Lenny opens his eyes and it's clear that he is aggravated at the intrusion.

"Good night."

"It's daytime, stupid."

"But we're sweeping."

"I can't sleep until you sh—" A quick glance at Mr. Pike. "—be quiet."

"But you forgot to say Good Night to me."

"Fine. Good NIGHT!"

"Okay." Jimmy rolls to his other side and scoots over towards Spock's mat. Before he can speak, the Vulcan says without opening his eyes, "Good night, Captain."

"Night, Spock."

Jimmy rolls to the middle of his own mat, curling up. And the daily nap-time routine is complete to Captain Jimmy's satisfaction. Pike doubts that he will ever tire of watching the three musketeers—as he likes to think of them—connect in that strange, special way that they do. He motions for Jon to step back and they proceed down the line of children, urging everyone to sleep so that they can play hard outside later.

Finally, listening to the sounds of quiet snores—loud in Scotty's case—and otherwise blissful silence, the two men settle at Pike's desk. Jon says quietly, "Second drawer."

Pike opens his second drawer, stares, and then pulls out a bottle of brandy.

"Jon, you can't keep liquor in my desk!" he says fiercely, leaning over to the man so that he doesn't have to shout.

Archer rolls his eyes. "It's not mine, Chris, it's for you. Since I drank your last bottle."

Pike reads the label. An expensive brand. Not bad. "Well, next time don't bring it to work. The parents might sue if they think that an alcoholic is looking after their children."

"I doubt they'd blame you for needing a drink or two," Jon snickers.

Pike ignores his inane comment and continues. "Or what if the kids had gotten into this?"

Archer pales. "Er, bad things would ensue?"

"Very bad things," he confirms.

He slips the bottle into his briefcase with the intention of hiding his briefcase on the highest shelf in his office. Jonathan looks disappointed that he doesn't open the bottle right away. They stare at each other for the span of two minutes.

"So…"

Chris raises an eyebrow.

"Has Miss Rand mentioned how handsome I am?"

"Does 'Shouldn't Mr. Archer's family be looking after him at his age?' count?"

Jon's eyes narrow. "Bullshit!"

"Honest to God, Jon. When will you learn that there's a reason you're… decrepit and single? Women have the instinct to steer clear when you walk into a room." He's trying hard to hold in his laughter. It wouldn't do to wake the children, not before he can enjoy more than a brief five minutes of peace.

"You're an SOB, Christopher. Remind me again why I bother to be friends with you."

"It's because no one else is willing to be your friend _but me_," he informs the other calmly.

That darkens the scowl on Jon's face. Pike grins. "I can fire you, Pike."

"No you can't."

"Damn it!"

"Hush, you don't want to get Jimmy up and going, do you?"

"I'm still trying to figure out a way to shut him down."

They both glance over at the sleeping babes. "It's only temporary," Pike says mournfully.

"I know."

They sigh as one. Then Jon leans forward on his elbows, steeples his fingers and asks, "Tell me about this Winona of yours."

"She's not my Winona. She's Jimmy's mother."

"I may be old, Christopher, but I'm not blind. You were mooning over that vid like a dog that has to watch its owner eat a juicy hamburger."

Pike says, "Porthos doing alright?"

"He's fine. No harm, no foul. I still can't figure out how he got attached to that streetlamp in the first place. Someone had to have tied him there. Lucky that the man who found my poor baby was nice enough to call me when he saw the Missing Porthos flyer." Jon rubs at his chin with his knuckles. "But don't change the subject."

"I'm not. I am gravely concerned over this matter of your distressed beagle. Does he need therapy?"

Jon lets out a bark of laughter that has both men going very still. When none of the children awaken, they slump with relief. Then Archer pops a joint and stands up. "Need more coffee. Want some?"

"Sure," Pike agrees. He slips his hands into his sweater pockets once Jon is gone to the break room, leans back and closes his eyes.

Jonathan is right, of course. He does think about Winona Kirk more than is strictly professional. He has also never been attracted to one of his children's parents before—and that terrifies him. If it came down to a choice, he would always put Jimmy first. So there is no way he would cross a line by attempting to date Winona when he is paid to care for her son. But after Jimmy no longer attends Little Star Academy?

Then all bets are off.

Of course, that doesn't take into account whether or not Jimmy will still be ecstatic to have Mr. Pike around—especially in such an intimate capacity. Things can change in so short a time, as he well knows. Christopher can hope, however. Oh how he can hope.

Jon comes back bearing two cups of coffee. Pike inhales the fresh roasted smell (not the replicated stuff) and makes a noise of approval. Archer is equally enjoying his coffee. They sit like that for some time, comfortable and at ease.

Eventually the clock on the wall strikes three; the Vulcan automatically blinks awake and sits up. His hair is not quite as pristine as when he'd first fallen asleep. Spock turns his head to look at the pair of teachers and says, without inflection, "It is time to proceed to the next activity."

Pike tosses his now-empty paper cup into the waste bin and slowly stands up, his legs and back protesting. "Yes, Spock," he sighs. "It is time."

Mr. Archer, on the other hand, groans and thunks his head down onto the desk.

Spock, after straightening his outfit (though one or two of the wrinkles remain stubbornly present), addresses Jonathan. "I fail to understand why one would harm oneself in such an illogical manner."

Jon raises his head, rubbing at his temple. "You'll understand one day, Mr. Spock. If you continue to keep in contact with _him_—" Archer indicates the mumbling Kirk that Pike is rolling out of a puddle of drool. "—then, trust me, you'll understand."

Spock only says "Fascinating."


	14. Part Fourteen

**I'd like to send out a quick thank you to all the reviewers. :) I enjoy your wonderful and encouraging comments; you each seem to find a unique part of the story that you love—that I love too—and this makes me very happy. Thank you so much!**

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* * *

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Part Fourteen

* * *

"Will you need a ride home this afternoon, Jan?"

"No, that's alright. My boyfriend is coming to pick me up." Rand continues washing out small paint brushes.

Pike hopes that he is not prying overly much, but he is curious. Janice never talks about her personal life. It just so happens that she was running late this morning because she had to use the public transit system to get to work. Interesting. "What's his name?"

"Hmmm?"

"Your boyfriend," Pike clarifies.

"Riley." Janice sets the brushes aside and turns to him. "We've been together for a while."

"Oh?"

She seems to hesitate. "Chris, you won't… think I'm silly, will you?"

"Why would I?" he asks mildly.

The young woman blushes. "Because my, er, car trouble this morning didn't really involve trouble."

His eyebrows come together as Pike attempts to decipher that comment.

"I mean, it could use a tune-up… but I just wanted to get Riley out here. To see the kids."

Now he really is curious. "Why?"

She takes a rag and wipes down the counter absent-mindedly. "…I want a baby."

_Oh Lord._ This is not Christopher's area of expertise. Janice keeps talking. "I know Riley wants kids too… we have that in common, wanting a family. Both of his parents died when he was very young, and Riley always talks about how much he wants to be a dad. I think… I'm ready."

He clears his throat. What's he supposed to say to a woman who wants to tell her lover that she would like to start a family? Pike is utterly clueless and feeling a tad awkward.

"Chris," Rand sighs. "Working with these children is one of the best things that has ever happened to me—besides meeting Riley. I want him to see what a joy they are. Don't you just think that they are wonderful?"

"Yes, of course."

"I envy Ms. Kirk."

He tries not to fall out of his chair. "You do?"

"Jimmy's such a sweetheart. I want one just like him!"

He imagines that there are days when Winona might be willing to sell her son.

"If only I could give Riley a son like him."

Pike thinks that the bubble in his throat is hysterical laughter. But it would be unkind to let it out, because Janice wouldn't understand that he isn't laughing at her dreams. He's lamenting them. "James is… a special child. Any child takes hard work, Janice. I know you understand that. But with one like Jimmy, you would never have a moment's peace!"

He suspects that she is ignoring him. Her eyes are fixed on some distant spot as she lauds James Tiberius Kirk. "…with his soft blond hair. I'm a blonde myself, and though Riley has brown hair, I bet our son would have my hair color. And those gorgeous baby blues! He'll be a heartbreaker by the time he hits grade school…"

"Jan."

"…Jimmy's so smart too! Such a natural born leader. Did you see the way that he got Lenny and Spock to stop arguing?"

Yeah, by squirming between them and shouting at the top of his lungs. "Jan…"

"It's such a shame that he already has a mother—"

"MISS RAND!"

She shuts her mouth and blinks at him.

Pike grimaces. "Are you sure that you don't want Jimmy rather than a Jimmy?"

The absolutely wrong thing to say. (When will Pike learn that silence is best?) Rand's hands go to her hips and he thinks that he sees flames lick out of her nostrils. "_Excuse me?_"

"I just meant—"

"I would NEVER steal another woman's child! How dare—"

His hands go up in automatic defense. "Please, Jan. That's not what I meant! I—I am_ very_ happy that you find Jimmy so adorable and of course you want one…_ just_ like him. Forgive me."

She is somewhat mollified. She sniffs and drops the rag into the sink. As Rand sweeps past Pike, she announces, "You might want to go to the door, Mr. Pike. I hear Pavel and his father coming down the hall." Pavel likes to sing, so that's entirely possible.

He sighs to himself and stands up. The day hasn't even begun and it is already looking to be _fantastic_. Luckily, he knows that Rand's temper is usually short-lived; once the children are all present, they will have a buffer or two between them until she feels that she can speak to him again.

Maybe it's not a bad thing that this Riley is due to arrive later today. Chris can't wait to see what kind of man Janice finds acceptable to be the father of her "Jimmy."

* * *

Pike is popping pills for his headache by nap-time. Janice is humming as she awaits for the children wake up. He's almost tempted to let her handle the rest of the afternoon but that would be unfair, not to mention cowardly. (Jon would have run off to barricade himself in Pike's office by now—has before, on occasion.)

Thirty minutes later and all the children are running, screaming, and generally enjoying themselves on the playground. Pike does his casual stroll past the sandbox, around the playhouse and over to the swings. Rand is chasing Jimmy across the yard, a band-aid in her hand, but his little legs are pumping mightily fast.

He cannot help himself when she passes by in hot pursuit. "There's an easier solution, you know."

Janice comes to a halt and pivots to eye him. "Really?"

Pike holds out his hand for the band-aid. "Watch." He trots over to the low balance beam and calls "Lenny!"

Lenny jumps the one-foot to the ground, abandoning his "precarious" balancing act. "Yeah?"

He holds up the band-aid with grinning purple dinosaurs on it.

"Nuh-uh!" Lenny glares.

"Yeah-huh."

"But Mr. Pike!" It's not quite a whine. McCoy doesn't do whining.

"Look, as the Captain's Doctor, it's your responsibility to patch him up."

"I'm not his Goddamn doctor!"

"Leonard Horatio McCoy! What did I tell you about that word?"

"Sorry," the boy mumbles and kicks at an imaginary rock in the dirt. Then, "I don't wanna."

"Please, Lenny? Do it for Miss Rand. She's tired of chasing him. And I'm much too old."

Lenny eyes him. "You are pretty old."

_Thanks, kid._ He says instead, "Jimmy will listen if you pull rank."

That catches the boy's attention. "Rank?"

"Chief Medical Officers can outrank their Captains if a medical crisis necessitates the action."

McCoy snatches the band-aid from him. "You got any more?"

Pike raises an eyebrow and pulls out a handful from his sweater pocket. (Because you just never know during Play-Time.) In the blink of an eye, Lenny grabs all of the band-aids before Pike can protest, running off with a shout of "CAPTAIN!"

Pike watches as Jimmy's blond head slowly emerges from the side of the playhouse. Jimmy seems to forget that he needs to hide at Lenny's bellow and responds with "Bwones! Here!"

The two disappear behind the playhouse. Later, when Pike calls everyone back inside, he has to shove a fist into his mouth at the sight of Kirk. The boy's face is covered in band-aids.

Lenny says as he grins and bounces, "I tried to fix his ugly face."

While Jimmy is working out that that was (indeed) an uncomplimentary remark and if he has (indeed) been tricked by his doctor, Pike turns away to laugh before he cries.

At least McCoy remembered to put a band-aid on Jimmy's scratched elbow too.

* * *

Riley arrives on the heels of Mrs. Scott, who gathers her baby into her arms and kisses his forehead multiple times as if she didn't just drop him off that morning. Pike finds this scene amusing—because she acts the same way every afternoon.

Noticing the dark-haired man poking his head around the corner, Pike says, "Can I help you?"

"Um, here for Janice—Miss Janice Rand."

"Of course." He smiles. "Come on in, Riley. Janice has told me all about you."

The man looks astonished. "Seriously? I don't even think that her parents know about us!"

Pike is firmly going to stay out of that one. "Well, welcome anyway. We're just waiting for the rest of the children to go home and then we can close up shop."

"Okay."

"Riley!" Jan finishes buttoning up Pavel's jacket and sends him waddling off to a round table. "Thank you for coming, sweetheart." She kisses him quickly. Several _eww'_s can be heard around the room. Pike rolls his eyes in amusement.

Riley is dragged over to a gaggle of children. He looks uncertain and rather nervous; Pike takes pity on him and introduces him to the staring kids.

"Jimmy?" Riley says quickly. "Is that him? Janice talks about him a lot."

_I bet she does. _Pike is smart enough to keep his mouth shut. "Jimmy, come here."

The boy knocks over two chairs in his haste and attaches himself to Pike's leg. "Is Mama here yet, Mr. Pwike?"

"No, son. I want you to meet Miss Rand's… friend."

Jimmy slowly turns his head to look first at Miss Rand, then Riley, then at their joined hands. He looks back at Chris and says "Hello" quietly into Pike's pants leg.

That's odd. The boy is never shy. Pike detaches him and faces him towards the couple.

Riley winces at Jan's sharp tug on his hand. "Hello there, Jimmy. Kirk is it?"

The boy nods. "Capt'n." At Pike's prompt, he adds, "James _Ti-bear-ee-us_ Kirk."

When neither male says another word, Jan looks between them, frowning. "Jimmy, tell Riley about your ship."

"No."

_Uh-oh._ Pike clears his throat. "That's not nice. Riley is a guest, and how are we supposed to treat guests, Jimmy?"

"Nicey."

"Nicely."

"Nice-lee."

"Right."

"Wight."

"Right."

"Www—ight."

Pike chuckles. Riley looks confused. Janice is annoyed that Pike is screwing up her plan. He lets Jimmy go and says, motioning towards the door, "I ought to get back." And he does, quickly.

When Winona shows up—some ten minutes later—he is more than happy to call "Jimmy!"

"MAMA!"

The boy breaks loose from a circle of children and comes pelting. Winona scoops him up and thanks Pike for another day of watching her son. "No trouble—not too much anyway, Winona." They share a laugh. The mother and child disappear down the hall.

That's when he notices that the circle of children haven't broken up. (Janice has escorted Christine to the bathroom.) Pike meanders over to the little group.

"What's going on?" The children scramble away. There are only five of them.

He stares.

"Mr…Pike?"

"Good Lord, son. What happened to you? It's only been ten minutes!"

"Janice left me," the man grimaces.

Pike inches closer and toes the empty tape dispenser from his desk.

"Can you find some scissors?"

Pike does. Riley is bright red as Chris cuts the tape binding his legs to the child's chair. Riley states "There's something the matter with that Kirk kid."

"Jimmy doesn't understand social niceties yet, I'm afraid." Riley mutters something that Pike pretends he doesn't hear. "But he's a good kid."

Riley is pulling off pieces of tape from his jeans when Janice comes back. "Are you ready to go yet?" he asks his girlfriend plaintively.

She looks around, sees that Jimmy has disappeared and smiles at him. "Sure. Chris, you can handle the rest, right?"

"I can."

As Riley is being lead away, Pike hears the parting words "Don't you just love kids, Riley darling? I was thinking…"

Good luck to them both.


	15. Part Fifteen

**Part Fifteen**

* * *

"I'll understand if you say no, Mr. Pike. I know parents shouldn't ask this sort of thing of the teacher but—" Winona's eyes are pleading. "—last week's babysitter quit, and I haven't had time to interview anyone. None of my friends—"

He stops her gently. "It's fine. I'll be happy to do it."

The woman's shoulders slump in relief. "Oh God, thank you! Thank you, Chris. I'd take Jimmy with me to this lecture, but I doubt I'd be welcome back on campus afterwards."

"We'll definitely aim for saving your career."

There is a pause in which they just smile at each other. Then, "Mama! Dun yet?"

Winona sighs and picks up her boy. "Yes, Mommy and Mr. Pike are finished talking. Let's go home, sweetie."

"Yeah!"

Jimmy grins at Pike and waves fiercely bye-bye. Pike pivots on his foot, leans against the doorjamb and watches them walk out of the swinging doors at the end of the hall.

He grins. Saturday night he's got a babysitting date with a toddler—and a way to make Winona happy. Life is good.

* * *

Chris buzzes the comm unit on the door. A booming "MR. PWIKE!" and the sound of thudding little feet can be heard inside the apartment. Then the comm unit buzzes back with "Hello?"

"Jimmy? It is Mr. Pike. Can you get your mother for me?"

_Buzz._ "Are you a stwranger?"

"No, I'm Mr. Pike."

"Stwrangers are bad. Mr. Pwike wears glasses."

He sighs and pull out a pair from his pocket and places them on his nose. "Better."

"What's the secret p-pass-wword?"

"Jimmy," he warns. "Go get your mother."

"She's in the bathrwoom!"

His brain suddenly clicks. "James! You can't reach the comm unit."

"Yes, I can!" _Buzz, buzz, buzz._

"Whatever you're standing on, get off of it right this instant!" The last thing he wants is to spend the night in the hospital while Jimmy has his bones reset.

"No!"

"James Tiberius Kirk," he growls, "down!" A neighbor has paused at his door farther along the hall; the man stares at Pike and mouths the words _good luck_.

"Okayyy.." There is a _thud_ and then, seconds later, a _crash_.

Pike hears "Jimmy!" and feels relief at the sound of Winona's rapidly approaching voice.

"The pwant fell, Mama."

"Jimmy, please, don't climb—" _Buzz. _"Chris?"

"Yes, Winona?" he answers dryly.

"Please come in."

The door's locks disengage and the door opens to reveal a casually dressed Winona holding a pouting Jimmy. He steps just instead the threshold.

"MR. PWIKE!" The boy launches himself at Chris, who catches him.

He lifts the boy up to eye level. "So now I'm not a stranger?"

The boy shakes his head and beams. "No!"

"Just checking." He puts Kirk down and nods to Winona.

She says, "I'll be running late in another minute. My number—and several others—are on the refrigerator, though I'm sure you have my contact information already. In there is the kitchen, through there the living room, down the hall the bathroom." She is talking as she rushes around and shoves items into a shoulder bag. Pike imagines that toddler Winona must have been a bit of whirlwind herself. Then Winona stops next to him, tucks loose strands of hair behind her ears. "Don't let Jimmy stay up too late. I should be back by nine, I hope. Professor Gerard can lecture for _hours_, if he's in the mood."

"Whenever will be perfectly fine, Ms. Kirk. We'll be here." She thanks him and is gone in another instant.

Pike re-engages the door locks and rubs at the back of his neck. "Jimmy—Jimmy?"

There is the sound of giggling from somewhere in the apartment. He sighs heavily. It's going to be a long, long night.

* * *

Jimmy disappears on and off all evening because apparently "Where's Jimmy?" is the best game in the galaxy. The boy has managed to squeeze behind the stove, inside the bathroom cabinet—spilling Winona's feminine products all over the floor—and even caught Pike unawares from behind a door despite that being an age-old trick.

At the moment, Christopher has a firm grip on the child and is attempting to feed him peas. The boy's flailing arm sends the spoon clattering across the floor.

"James, peas are good for you."

"NO! They're GWEEN!"

"They're supposed to be green. They're vegetables."

"EWWW!"

He had no idea that being a teacher and a parent could be so different. When he shows Jimmy that peas are in fact tasty by eating one himself (and not grimacing at its grossness), then offering another pea to Jimmy, the boy bites his finger instead of letting Pike put the pea in his mouth.

So that's how Jimmy gets away the fifth time and Pike ends up with a band-aid on his finger. By the time he catches the child, stumbling around and stepping on every toy made by Mankind—earlier Jimmy had somehow dragged his toy box down the hall and turned it over on purpose—Pike is suffering from a sore head (banged it under the kitchen table) and one broken lense in his glasses. He is now glasses-less and avoiding the penlight that Jimmy found somewhere and keeps shining in his eyes. (Something about doctoring Mr. Pwike because Bwones is far, far away.) Thirty-five minutes involving a tussle and pleading, Pike's sweater and pants are covered in a purple substance that smells strange (and fairly strong). Jimmy is finally settled on the couch, eating a sweet treat with enormous satisfaction because Pike had caved. The boy's face is an abomination of red juice by the time he finishes and automatically demands "More!"

Pike scoops Jimmy up and takes him to the bathroom. Kirk batters the wood of the bottom sink cabinet with his heels as Pike painstakingly washes his face. Those bright blue eyes are watching his every move.

"Mr. Pwike?"

"Hmmm?"

"Are you gonna live wit me and Mommy?"

Pike blinks. "No, Jimmy. Tonight, when your mother comes home, I'll go back to my house."

The boy sniffles ominously. "Why?"

"Because my house is where I live."

"Why?"

"Because I bought and paid for it."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted a home."

"Why?"

"Because I thought I might have a fam— Jimmy, stop asking why!"

"Why?"

Pike picks up him and doesn't answer. Kirk locks arms around his neck. "Why?" insists the child. "Whhhyyy?"

"I have a house because I thought I was planning for the future, but sometimes the future isn't what we expect. Are you satisfied?"

Jimmy shrugs and lays his head down on Pike's shoulder. Chris sits down on the couch and rubs the boy's back in slow circles.

"Sleepy, son?" The little head nods and Jimmy tucks a thumb into his mouth. "Would you like for Mr. Pwike, er, _Pike_ to read you a bedtime story?"

Again, nodding—a bit more vigorously. Pike leans back into the cushions and lowers his voice to a soothing rumble. "Once upon a time, there was a smart child named Tiberius and he liked to watch the stars at night—"

Jimmy is sound asleep before Pike gets to the part about Tiberius getting his own starship and sailing through the stars with all of his friends. Chris touches his cheek to the top of the child's head and closes his eyes at the smell of baby shampoo. His heart aches and rejoices at the same time. The two men—one big and one little—stay like that for some time; Jimmy dreaming and Christopher listening to his deep, even breaths.

The sound of a door unlocking brings Pike back into awareness from his half-doze. He gently deposits the still sleeping child onto the couch, tossing a blanket over him and goes to the door to greet Winona.

The stress lines on her face have smoothed, and she looks calm. He guesses that this short break for the evening—despite attending a professor's lecture—has done her a world of good.

"He's asleep," Pike tells her.

"Thank you, Chris."

"Did you enjoy the lecture?"

Winona rolls her eyes. "Yes, but the man kept talking and talking. I didn't think I'd make it out of there before dawn! I'm sorry," she whispers, "that it's so late."

"Is it? I didn't notice. I admit that I might have been napping too."

She takes in his rumpled, purple-stained clothes. "Was he too much trouble?"

Pike shakes his head. "Jimmy is himself. We adapt to him, not the other way around." Her grateful smile makes his heart thump in his chest. He clears his throat and walks over to the open door, stands with one foot in the apartment and one foot out in the hall. "I suppose I ought catch more than a nap. Winona…"

"Oh! Hold on, let me get my wallet—" She starts digging through her shoulder bag.

He places a hand on her arm, to still it. "No need for that." Pike smiles.

Winona blinks. "But, Chris, I have to pay you—I mean, at least let me cover the dry cleaning for your clothes!"

He chuckles and looks rueful. "Darling, this is the kind of collateral damage I suffer through every day at Little Star. I'm used to it—and why do you think we charge the parents so much?" He doesn't mention that her rate is a single parent discount. "Don't worry about it. No, all I ask for this night's work—" He adds a bit of dramatics for effect, which Winona finds amusing by the twinkle in her eyes. "—is that you agree to have dinner with me." He holds up a hand, indicating that he isn't finished, at her wide-eyed look. "_After _I graduate from being Jimmy's teacher Mr. Pike. That's if you don't mind being seen with a nervous wreck of a man."

She mutters lowly, "We'd be a pair." He's seen Jimmy worry his bottom lip in exactly the same way.

He slips his hands into his sweater pockets, grimaces at the cold squishy feeling. Jimmy has probably left him something unpleasant. He tamps down on the urge to run to the bathroom and scour his hands clean.

Winona glances from his expression to his hidden hands, and a smile blossoms on her face. "It's pudding."

He raises an eyebrow.

"Jimmy enjoys sharing his favorite treat with people he likes," says the woman. Then she blushes. "Well, if my boy loves you—and, trust me, I know that he does—then I suppose I can say yes."

"Really?" How did he just turn into an awkward teen scheduling his first date?

"Really," she confirms.

Pike is smart enough not to linger at the door and tempt Fate to steal back his prize. He strolls down the apartment's sidewalk to his car, and after three fumbling attempts, manages to get inside. He's grinning like a fool.

_Beep. Beep beep beep!_

Knocked out of his euphoria by the loud unfamiliar sound, he digs around his seat until he discovers a communicator glaring red at him. When he clicks it to Answer, a voice blares out, "Congratulations, you old dog!"

"Jon?"

"You had me going for a minute, Pike. I wasn't sure you'd ask her out! But you did," the old man crows.

He flounders, flabbergasted. "What the Hell? Archer, you ass! Are—are you _spying_ on me?"

A horn sounds down the block. "That's me, and of course I'm spying on you, stupid. If you'd chickened out, I'd have dragged your ass back up to that apartment and forced you kids to kiss."

"You're insane," he growls. "Come out here!"

"Hell, I ain't _that_ dumb. 'Sides, you don't need to be swinging at your partner. Bad for business. Now, it's way past my bedtime, snookie, so I'll see you later this weekend."

"Oh no you don't, Archer, you son of a—" The line goes dead.

Pike stares at the planted device and drops it into on his adjoining seat. On the way back to his own home, he thinks. He thinks hard about a sweet little thing called revenge and how much Janice will enjoy the news that Archer really is a big softie who loves Jimmy Kirk and wishes too that Kirk was his son.

Oh yes, that's good. And then he'll call in sick and send Archer to his doom.


	16. Part Sixteen

**Part Sixteen**

* * *

Spock is the only child who does not appreciate finger painting; this is acceptable to his teacher because Pike understands about the sensitivity of the boy's fingerpads. Spock insists that his dislike has nothing to do with touch-telepathy and everything to do with the chaotic, mathematically imprecise results of using the combination of paint and fingers. Christine Chapel attempts to persuade him otherwise but he observes her thumbprint daises and improbable squiggly river with indignation. Therefore, the Vulcan uses a brush set while all the rest of his peers are as happily messy as can be.

They are not plastic, cheap children's brushes.

Spock arrived one day with a small case tucked under his arm and presented it to Mr. Pike. Upon opening the case, he discovered a genuine artists' brush set—ranging from fan brushes to tiny detail brushes—all arranged in order of Spock's likelihood for needing them.

Unfortunately, children are always observant when someone has a new toy or is given some privilege the others are not. Pike warned Spock that if he planned to use this brush set at Little Star, then he must share with his classmates.

"We promote equality and fairness in this classroom, Spock. If you were… handicapped by your touch-telepathy, then an exception could be made and your friends taught to understand why you do not act as they do. But since you insist that you are not uncomfortable using your fingers…"

He trailed off, looking at Spock hopefully. The Vulcan remained quiet.

Pike sighed. Then the child would learn the hard way. "You may place the case in the art supplies cabinet. Do you understand that it becomes common property?"

"Yes, Sir."

He had nodded.

* * *

_Two days later..._

The first sign of trouble approaches. Nyota is demanding a giant purple marker (to what purpose, Pike is afraid to ask) and instead finds Spock's brush kit. (Children have a sixth sense for discovering new potential playthings.) She immediately commandeers it to her round table and starts disassembling Spock's careful order. Pike watches quietly as the baby Vulcan is immediately up and standing by Nyota's table, staring calmly down at his sudden neme—"friend that is female."

"You have discovered my brush set for activities which require the use of acrylic polymer emulsion."

"Nope. It's mine."

The Vulcan blinks. Tries again. "As I acquired the set for the purpose—"

Nyota ignores him and sniffs the brushes one-by-one. She also enjoys tickling the soft hairs dangerously close to her nostrils.

Spock stiffens. "Please desist, Nyota."

"What's desist?"

"Desist means to cease in one's actions."

"What's ceassse? Is that a di-dis—when somebody's really sick and gonna die?"

"Illogical. Disease is not cease, nor retains a relation to the word cease."

"Well if ceassse is stop—that's what Mr. Pike told Jimmy last week when he was dancing on Mr. Pike's desk and Jimmy said he didn't understand what Mr. Pike was saying—and di-diseeassse means you are gonna die—Lenny is smart, he's the Captain's doctor, and he told me all about diseassses—then ceassse is like diseeassse."

Spock looks momentarily stumped at Nyota's six-year-old logic. When the girl bites down on the wood of a brush, he forgoes pacifism and jerks it out of her mouth. Nyota looks as though she cannot decide between shouting at Spock or crying because he stole something of hers. She settles for grabbing a fist full of brushes and running off calling "Captain! Captain!"

Let it never be said that Jimmy is not fully alert at the sound of a crewmember's distressed voice. He abandons watching Scotty rearrange Pavel's "skyscraper" into a more stable structure.

"Captain!" Nyota half-wails right into Jimmy's face. Spock is following at a much sedater but nonetheless determined pace.

"Lieuwenant U-_hur_-a." Jimmy always has to sound out Nyota's last name slowly to get it right (otherwise she gets mad and smacks him). She doesn't allow him to use her first name either.

"Captain," Nyota sniffs, "Spock attacked me."

Jimmy's eyes grow to the size of quarters. "Rweally?"

She nods fiercely, her pigtails bouncing. "'N he wants my _toys_."

Spock is now level with the pair and corrects Nyota's inaccurate account. "Captain, Nyota is in the possession of my brush set." Jimmy reaches for the tightly gripped brushes but his crewmember hisses at him. "I informed Lieutenant Nyota of this fact, one which she persisted to ignore. She has defiled my property." Spock presents a brush as evidence, indicating the set of small teeth impressions along the handle.

"I found 'em and I can bite 'em if I want to!" insists the fuming girl to the Vulcan.

Spock looks only at his Captain. "I am formally filing a complaint against the Lieutenant, Captain, and I require that Nyota be relieved of my possessions and her rank. The brush set shall be returned to me immediately."

Jimmy rocks on his feet and looks between his two upset and angry officers. Then he turns in Pike's direction—who is watching the entire fiasco from a safe distance—and calls "Mr. Pwike!" The teacher shakes his head slowly at Jimmy, who looks devastated. Pike shall not interfere unless fists start flying. Let Jimmy learn a lesson about a Captain's duties as well.

"Captain!"

"Captain."

Two sets of voice, both demanding justice from their superior officer.

Jimmy asks, as if for clarification, "Woo's are they?" He pokes at the brushes.

"Mine!" Nyota shouts.

"They are mine," replies Spock. Then adds solemnly, "Vulcans do not lie, Captain."

Jimmy starts rocking on his heels again. "Lieuwenant, you fwound them?" The boy's brain is obviously working furiously to solve this squabble.

"Over there." Nyota points at the looming art cabinet.

"Oh." Jimmy turns to Spock. "Mr. Pwike said everybody can use the art stuff." His eyes light up. "I wike gwitter!"

"Glitter is irrevelant and wasteful," comments the Vulcan before addressing the matter at hand. "Captain, I placed this brush set in the art cabinet two point four days prior for the purpose of aiding my artistic endeavors."

"Bwut why'd you put it in there, Mr. Spock?"

The Vulcan clearly hesitates for the first time. "Mr. Pike insisted that I do so."

Jimmy worries his bottom lip. Finally, he announces, "I want 'em!"

Nyota says "No!"

"Yes!" Jimmy sticks out his hand imperiously. "I'm Capt'n!"

With a trembling bottom lip, Nyota tosses the handful at Jimmy's feet and bursts into tears. Jimmy squats down and gathers them up into a pile.

Spock, who had momentarily disappeared, comes back with the case in hand. He selects each brush from the pile and places them back into the proper order. When he is snaps the case closed, Jimmy reaches for it.

"Captain?" The Vulcan is uncomprehending of Jimmy's action.

"They're mine, Mr. Spock."

"But Captain…" He watches as Jimmy clasps the case to his chest. "Those are my brushes," Spock says uncertainly.

"No, Spock," Jimmy tells him gently. "They're everybody's. Mr. Pwike said so. We're supposed to share. When Pavel and Hikaru won't share crwayons, Mr. Pwike takes the crwayons away."

Spock looks as if he wants to deny Jimmy's words but he knows that he cannot.

Pike is not quite bursting with pride when Kirk toddles up to him and holds out the case of brushes. He takes it with a "Thank you, Captain. Excellent work."

* * *

Neither Nyota nor Spock will acknowledge Jimmy for the reminder of the day. Lenny, surprisingly, seems to understand that Jimmy is sad at being shunned by his friends and makes an effort cheer Jimmy up. At one point, when Jimmy despondently refuses to join in on Scotty and Lenny's Fortress of Doom (McCoy named it), just sits on the floor looking mournfully over at Spock (whose back is to Jimmy), Lenny pushes at Kirk and says, "Get up!"

The boy shakes his head.

Lenny maneuvers until he is in Jimmy's face. "Spock's bein' stupid, Jimmy," states McCoy. "And he'll figure out that he's bein' stupid."

Jimmy shrugs. "He hates me."

"Naw he don't. He's just bein' stupid! Even Vulcans are stupid sometimes."

"Rweally?"

"Uh-huh."

"Are you my fwiend?"

Lenny seems to contemplate his answer. "You won't be sad no more?"

"No!" Jimmy promises.

"Okay. We can be friends. But you can't call me Bones! That's a stupid name!"

Jimmy scrambles to his feet and cries "Bwones!" at the top of his lungs, delight in his voice.

"I said no!" Lenny pouts. "I ain't Bones!"

But Jimmy is already past McCoy and crawling behind the fortress to greet Mr. Scott. It's then that Pike notices Spock has been watching this entire exchange between Jimmy and Lenny. The teacher knows in his heart that the Vulcan will think on a great many things and draw a few appropriate conclusions.

And tomorrow he'll let Jimmy be his Captain again.


	17. Part Seventeen

**Part Seventeen**

* * *

Pike narrowly avoids crashing into Gaila dragging her partner Scotty at super-sonic speed (much faster than the boy is accustomed to) towards the miniature dollhouse. To say that he is resisting like a stubborn puppy would be an accurate description. The boy whimpers as he passes by Pike and makes a futile, clumsy grab for his teacher's trousers. Unfortunately, he misses, Gaila's grip is firm and Scotty becomes subject to the next twenty minutes of playing "daddy" with a lap occupied by a baby-doll, a tiny plastic pixie and a stuffed cat as his children. Galia, of course, is not just the mother—she is the supreme Mother of mothers and ruler of the imaginary household. She demands to be called Mrs. Scotty for the rest of the day and talks nonstop of her future plans for the Scotty household. The boy is appropriately subdued, if somewhat abject; he has to be prodded to say "I do" at his own wedding. Captain Jimmy officiates.

It's Galia's fourth wedding. Last month she married Hikaru (when they were partners), two weeks ago she married Samuel Giotto (who, Pike suspects, is rather enamored of Galia and enjoyed his husband status a little too much—Galia smacked and screeched when he tried to steal a kiss), last week she wanted to marry Pavel, got halfway through the ceremony before he burst into tears and she dumped him at the altar. Scotty is par for the course.

Jimmy, of course, has been asked several times to "Please marry me!" He bats his eyelashes back at Galia and smugly informs her that Captains can't marry because Bwones says they're married to their jobs. Galia hates this answer but that doesn't stop her from trying time and again. Pike has also seen the little Orion girl eyeing Spock on occasion.

The one time he has to investigate a squalling, punch-kicking Galia and a stoic but intrigued Vulcan squaring off, he is hard put not to ask Spock potentially invasive questions.

The baby Vulcan calmly answers to Pike's inquiry into the state of affairs, "Galia desires a union between us. I explained to her that this is impossible, as Vulcans are traditionally bonded from a young age to their intended mate. I have been… engaged, as you Humans are fond of saying, for one year, seven months, sixteen days and four point nine hours."

Jimmy pokes his head into the conversation. (Where he came from, Pike has no idea.) "Spock's married?" Then he disappears again, probably to spread the news.

Pike hands the weeping Galia to Janice, who looks as intrigued as he does. "When is your… engagement fulfilled, Spock?"

The Vulcan blinks. "Father says that there shall be an appropriate and necessary time for such matters." In other words, Spock has no idea.

Different cultures, different race of beings. He forgets that, sometimes—gets too caught up in the similarities of childish behavior (though Spock is certainly less childish than most of the pack at Little Star). It's a topic he wonders about on and off all day, especially when Lenny drops down beside Spock on the center rug and tells him, "Heard you're married, Spock. That's sad."

"Sad?" The Vulcan repeats with a tilt of his head. "I do not understand."

Lenny shakes his head like a tiny, pitying adult. "Bein' married's stupid. Boys don't need girls to tell 'em what to do." McCoy seems satisfied with this logic.

"I was unaware that marriage involved an imbalance of power between mates."

Lenny nods knowingly. "Sure it does. Just watch your mama. You'll see." With that last bit of sage advice, Lenny leaves Spock to his own McCoy-enlightened thoughts.

Pike stops grinning when Rand glares at him from behind the half-circle of children. He instantly clears his throat, picks up a storybook, and prepares to entertain his little ones for the next thirty minutes or so. Secretly, he is tickled by the thought of Lenny growing up to be a counselor of any kind. People will pay unseemly amounts of money just to hear the unbelievable words that come out of his mouth.

After story-time, all of the children are content to nap. Pike is finishing up some paperwork in his office when Janice pokes her head around the open door and urges him to take a look. He is greeted with the quiet peacefulness of sleeping babes and soft snores.

"What is it, Jan?" he asks quietly, not seeing anything unusual.

She points to Spock, who is flat-backed and breathing evenly as he naps—or meditates deeply. Pike blinks. Janice rolls her eyes and then singles out each child surrounding Spock and his mat.

"There's Jimmy—isn't he an angel?—which isn't anything strange. But then there's Nyota to his right, Galia there and Christine there."

"Well, I'll be darned," he says. The girls generally congregate away from the boys. Instead, these three are as close to the Vulcan as possible. He grins to Janice. "I suppose it's true then."

"What is?" Rand eyes him warily.

"That being a taken man_ is_ more attractive to the opposite sex."

He doesn't quite yelp when she smacks his arm with an exasperated "Mr. Pike!" Chris fixes his glasses which want to slip off the end of his nose, tucks his hands into his pockets and winks jauntily at Janice Rand on his way back to his office.

Amazing, really, the kind of truths he has had confirmed by a group of children.

* * *

This is one of his favorite times of year as a teacher. Halloween is on Saturday, and the children have been ecstatic about it since early in the week. Jimmy has taken to using Pike's desk as a launching pad for his new career in flying—as Captains can certainly fly when necessary. Everyone is excited about candy (Scotty's eyes are particularly bright nowadays); everyone is excited about dressing up. Spock seems to be gathering information on this particular Terran custom, as he deems it fascinating. Galia just likes the idea of a crazy outfit. (Pike pities her parents.)

Janice was nice enough to help him redo the monthly newsletter to warn parents of the impending Halloween Costume Day on October 30th. Word has spread, of course, to the children. Friday arrives and Pike has his holocam ready. He anticipates that he will spend a majority of the day being blinded by bright colors, deafened by squealing laughter, entertained by play-acting, and preventing Scotty from overdosing on candy corn.

He takes a picture as each child and parent pair arrives that morning. All costumes are freshly laundered or new. The parents are proud, as proud as the children.

Pike is only slightly shocked when Lenny comes gliding omniously down the hallway ahead of his father. In stance for the picture, Dr. McCoy has a bemused look on his face as he stands behind his black-shrouded son and a tall plastic scythe. After the snapshot, he shakes his head ruefully and comments to Pike, "Never seen him so obsessed before."

Pike nods and can't help asking, "Why is Death wearing a stethoscope?"

The man chuckles. "Apparently Death is the grimmest Doctor in the universe."

Pike has no other words.

Ms. Grayson is punctual as usual, with her son in close attendance.

"Spock," Pike says, "that is a nice costume."

"It is not a costume, Mr. Pike. It is a regulation Vulcan uniform for those in service on a scientific research vessel under the jurisdiction of the Vulcan Science Academy. The size has been adjusted to suit my person."

"His father's diplomatic status comes in rather handy on occasion," Spock's mother adds with a smile.

Pike and Amanda Grayson laugh simultaneously while Spock observes them both with a raised eyebrow and a clear question in his eyes. His mother strokes the boy's cheek once and they get into position for the picture. When the holopic develops, Spock is proud, tall and solemnly looking directly ahead. Amanda is watching her son, instead, with clear affection and love. Pike makes sure to send a copy to her later on.

Scotty is a pumpkin. An embarrassed bright orange pumpkin whom his mother cries over and thinks is "darling, isn't he, Mr. Pike? The best pumpkin in the patch!" Pike's hand is not quite shaking with laughter as he aims the holocam and snaps a shot of the miserable Scotty being washed by a spit-bearing handkerchief.

Perhaps there is a good reason why the boy has a severe sweet tooth. Maybe it's his only consolation.

Christine is an angel, complete with wired wings that molt. Pike ends up finding feathers in the oddest places for the next week. In his coffee cup, littering the top shelf of the cubby-holes and suspiciously entwined into a haphazard garland that Pavel wants to wear for an entire day.

Pavel is a puppy dog and is the most ridiculously adorable thing Pike has ever seen—and he's seen a lot of adorable costumed children over the years. Mrs. Chekov has a talent for hand-sewing (who knew?) in her spare, non-research time. And she face-paints rather well too. Pike is reviewing the photo of the parent and child later when it strikes him that Pavel is not just a puppy dog… he's a beagle. (He grins and can't wait to tell Jon.) Throughout the day, Pike catches Scotty leading a bouncy, naïve Pavel around with an enticing chocolate chip cookie. The teacher is later relieved when Pavel is returned safely to his mother's arms rather than ending up lost and tied to a lamppost. (It's possible that Jon was right.)

Jimmy comes sailing in attached to his mother's back and announcing that he's flying. There is a bright red cape attached to his outfit—a bit long, actually, because Jimmy drags it through several mud puddles in the afternoon despite there having been no rain for a month.

Winona lets Pike detach the child from her back. Pike puts him down and gives his costume the proper amount of attention and inspection that is due. Jimmy is so excited that he can barely hold still under Pike's scrutiny.

"I'm a Capt'n!" announces Kirk.

"Yes, you told me that from day one. Is this what Captains wear?"

"Uh-huh!"

He looks very much like an old Superman poster Pike stumbled upon when he was seventeen and bargain-hunting through an antique bookshop. Different colors, pink being the strangest, but the underwear on the outside of his pants fits the description perfectly.

There are crooked, black fabric letters _JTK _sewn onto the front of the boy's yellow shirt.

When he looks up at Winona, she blushes and says, "He insisted. I tried."

Jimmy wants to be authentic for his glamour shot. Winona is unable to hold Jimmy aloft for long (he wiggles like a worm) so Pike takes one simple shot of mother and child. He volunteers to steady her son in his mid-flight Captain-superhero action pose. Winona snaps the picture and returns the holocam to Pike with a smile.

Galia tumbles through the door, almost literally, as she does a handspring and Pike catches her before she topples into Jimmy. She's in tight-fitting material, dark purple, with slippered feet. She is an acrobat for the Terran circus. She can do flips (Pike and Galia's father hastily tell her _no, a demonstration won't be necessary_), cartwheels, handstands, headstands, more cartwheels, and backflips if she's so inclined (again, neither Pike nor the male Orion are as inclined as Galia for a show). When no one authoritative is paying attention, Galia spends lunchtime trying to bribe Spock with a bowl of strawberry ice cream to launch her into the air. Rand gasps, Pike does a dive, and Galia is saved from a head-first impact with the floor. The other children cheer while Spock reseats himself and eats his ice cream.

Then comes Hikaru, who is dressed for a church service. Pike forgoes asking the blushing Hikaru about his pants, jacket and tie; he asks Mrs. Sulu instead, "Didn't you get the monthly newsletter?"

"It was received," she replies without inflection.

"Hikaru told all his friends that he was going to be a ninja."

"We do not observe this… unorthodox holiday, Mr. Pike. However, Mr. Sulu and I have made an exception today and allowed Hikaru to wear attire that indicates his future—as you required."

He punches down the need to ask the woman—and possibly make a call to the husband as well—why she enjoys making her only child unhappy. But it's not his place, nor is this the time, with small impressionable children as witnesses. He only says, "Very well, Mrs. Sulu. Hikaru, please join the others." He doesn't bother to offer her the use of his holocam. Rand looks as livid as he feels, and he quietly takes her to the side when Hikaru's mother has left.

Pike presses money into her hand. "Go find that costume for Hikaru. Search the entire town if necessary. We'll be here." She does.

The joyous look on Hikaru's face when Pike leads him from the bathroom in his Halloween costume is what Rand snaps with Pike's holocam. It will be easy enough to change the child back to his suit before the end of the day.

Nyota is wearing her mother's high heels, which she commands with surprising grace. Strapped to a wide black belt is a plastic knife (Pike inwardly cringes) and a pair of plastic handcuffs. She is "a modern officer of the law" as Mrs. Uhura puts it, and Nyota clarifies "in charge of capturin' bad guys!" Lenny slides up to Nyota, indicating that his scythe is bigger than her knife. Pike rather thinks she looks more terrifying with the manaical gleam in her eyes. Perhaps Lenny does too, because he quickly disappears. Nyota is grinning broadly in her photo, hands on hips; it's creepy, almost, that Mrs. Uhura has an identical expression.

Friday is indeed a special time for everyone. Pike winds up with bruises on his legs from Lenny trying to detach his limbs with the scythe (that thing hurts with the right amount of force). Rand chases Jimmy off various high (for a toddler) furniture and then the top of the outdoor playhouse. Scotty has pilfered another box of cookies from that mysterious place that no one can find. It's rather funny that the boy has to roll onto his side so that his hand can reach his mouth. Christine gets chased by Death and saved by a fierce beagle puppy that tries to brain Death with his stethoscope (until Pike pulls Pavel off of the surprised and slightly terrified McCoy). Ninja battles Captain until Cop binds them together with handcuffs which results in two laughing, widely grinning little boys. (Thank God.) Galia trades alien superiority secrets with Spock, who becomes distracted from classifying every object at hand by its chemical composition. (Pike's brain hurts from listening to the Vulcan talk, catalogue and lecture.)

The day ends with a group photo of happy children in partially intact, rumpled costumes and bags of candy clutched to their chests. Pike remembers to do a double check for chocolate before he sends Spock back to his mother. Scotty attempts to sneak out an extra two bags of candy, but Pike hears them rattling around inside the pumpkin belly. (The boy doesn't look ashamed in the least, when he's caught.)

It's good, as always. It's memorable, as always.

And because of a special set of holopics, it is a time that he often fondly recalls throughout the years to come.


	18. Part Eighteen

**Part Eighteen**

* * *

Even trouble by lovable, over-excitable little ones can become routine. And Pike finds that when he has fallen into a routine in which he can cope, something is bound to come along and shake him up. He always forgets to be on the look-out for that something. This time not only blind-sides him but it surprises and upsets the children too.

He loses a child.

Okay, not _permanently_ (he prays)—not in the bad way. He's only had to attend one funeral in all fifteen years, though that was an experience that should never be repeated. The little dark-haired girl had nicknamed herself (much to Pike's amusement) Number One; those details are still fresh in his mind, sometimes painfully so. She drowned in her parents' pool, and that period of time was probably the closest Pike has ever come to quitting his job. It made him realize how attached he can get, when he falls-in-love with the sheer delight and personality of each child that passes through Little Star. He realized how much it can wound him.

But Chris is still teaching and taking care of small children many, many years later, thanks to Jonathan Archer. A debt he'll not forget that he owes, though Jon says he was just being a friend—not to mention a business partner trying to stall losing the main reason Little Star Academy is popular. Pike wouldn't be here today, with Captain Jimmy and his crew, otherwise. And quite possibly, he wouldn't be frantically searching for Montgomery Scott while his heart thuds unhappily in his chest.

Christine is crying honest tears of fright, Jimmy is pale, and everyone—absolutely everyone—is quiet. The situation is serious, of that the little ones can grasp.

When a child disappears off of the premises, Pike automatically calls law enforcement. The last time this had almost happened, an angry parent who had no custodial rights to the targeted child had demanded to take him home. Pike had secured all of the children inside—refusing to allow the man access to the classroom—and threatened to call the police; thankfully, the father had not challenged Pike thereafter and made a speedy exit. But ultimately, Christopher Pike had been scared to his core.

Scotty is not so different a case, except that if someone did in fact kidnap the child, it would be a stranger. That scares Pike even more.

Rand returns from her search. "He's not in either bathroom or any of the supply closets. Chris, I just don't know! I swear that he was on the swing set, not more than a few minutes ago!"

"Jan, calm down. You're upsetting the children." It's the easiest way he can tell her not to panic without being blunt. She understands, takes a moment to breathe deeply. He pretends that he doesn't notice the trembling in her hands, or his own.

Jimmy crawls up to him, tugs on his pants leg. "Where's Scotty?"

"I don't know, son. Are you sure—is your entire crew_ certain _that none of you know where he could be?"

The boy shakes his head. Pike mentally curses.

"Then go back to the others and stay there. Keep everyone else from wandering off. Can you do that for me, Captain?"

The boy nods and goes back to Spock and Lenny who are not arguing for once and watching everything with sharp eyes. They huddle, talking, and Pike has no more time to contemplate what they might be saying.

"Get the police out here," he orders Janice. "Use the comm in my office. Then call Mrs. Scott at her work, if you will." She leaves to do just that.

He paces up and down the room, which is suddenly too small for comfort. After a quick glance at the children, who are not moving nor seem inclined to move, Pike reaches for his personal comm and pulls up Jon's number. Jonathan picks up, grumbling, "Who threw up and who needs watching?"

"Jon," he manages, "we've lost Scotty."

There is a moment of silence, then, "On my way. Chris, don't take your eyes off the others. They'll do something foolish, mark my words."

Pike doesn't even bother to cut the call as he spins around. Sure enough, he counts heads—already knowing who is missing—and actually says "Shit!" before he remembers not to. Pavel titters.

"Chris, I just—" Janice talks as she re-enters.

"Now we've lost the Three!"

She stops, dead-still, and looks horrified. "Not Jimmy!"

"And Lenny and Spock," he adds grimly. Shit shit shit.

Nyota pipes up, "The Captain ain't lost, Mr. Pike. He's gonna get Scotty."

"Does he know where Scotty is?"

"Nooo..."

Pike groans. "The next one of you who moves from that rug is banded from every future ice cream party!"

There are several gasps and one fresh bout of tears. If only Pike had been smart enough to threat them in the first place, he might not be now searching for four missing persons. At least, he can hope—but knowing Jimmy like he does, the child never listens to threats anyway.

"Stay with them, Jan. I'll go look. Ring on the comm when the police, Scotty's parents, or both get here." He doesn't wait for an answer and is running out the nearest door to the playground. Scotty disappeared during Play-time, and that's where they originally looked. He doesn't doubt that Jimmy—

Pike's eye catches the tail end of a colored blur scooting around a building corner. He shouts, "Lenny, Leonard Horatio McCoy, STOP!" And narrowly avoids tripping over an abandoned sand shovel.

By the time he rounds the corner, McCoy or any other wayward children are not in sight. But the bushes rustle to his left, and Pike sincerely wishes for a sedative that could bring down a moose, stun gun, net or _anything_ that might remotely stop a child in its tracks.

"James!" Pike parts the bushes. A bird, startled from its hiding place, almost hits him in the face. He leaps back, clutches at his chest.

"Bwird!"

"Jimmy, da—darn it! Where are you? _Spock!_" He goes silent, listening. There is suspicious quiet, especially for a group of babies on the hunt. Then, the whispers _Scotty? Scotty! Hello? _off to the left.

Pike goes back the way he came. A Vulcan pauses halfway between Pike and the door that leads inside. He blinks slowly at his teacher and greets, "Good afternoon."

"Spock! I told you—"

The Vulcan walks away without another word. Pike's mouth drops open. When he catches the boy by the shoulder, the Vulcan calmly threatens, "Release me, Mr. Pike, or I shall be forced to defend myself."

Pike drops to a knee. "Spock, this is serious business. I can't be searching for you and your Captain when Scotty is missing. What if he's hurt or..." He doesn't finish that explanation, because the words won't be forced past his throat.

"I understand the dangers to which Mr. Scott may be subject," Spock answers. "Thus I am aiding your search." A pause. "As are the Captain and Doctor."

"I'm sorry, son," Pike explains grimly. "And I haven't the time to make you fully understand. Go back inside."

When Spock opens his mouth, Pike commands, "Now. That's an order." Ah Hell. In for a penny, in for a pound. "As your Admiral."

The Vulcan looks intrigued. He also accepts Pike's newly declared position with surprising ease. "Yes, Admiral."

"Spock, before you go, where's Jimmy and Lenny?"

"The parking lot, Admiral."

Pike points the Vulcan in the direction of Miss Rand who is leaning halfway out of the door. Then he proceeds—God help them all—to the parking lot to retrieve a certain Captain and Doctor.

There's no need, unfortunately, because the recently arrived policeman has found them for Mr. Pike.

"The dispatcher said there was only one missing child," the uniformed man mutters as he shifts a hip to put the secured weapon out of Jimmy's grasping hands. The Captain switches tactics to climbing the man's leg. It would be funny, seeing an officer of the law extremely ruffled and trying to shake off a small child like a wild animal. Lenny is in the background, on his tiptoes peering into the backseat of the police car. Pike thanks the Powers-That-Be that the car doors are shut. Hopefully they are locked too.

"Leonard! James! Come here!"

Lenny trots up to Mr. Pike and says, "Scotty ain't in that idiot's car." The policeman frowns at McCoy who does not deign to notice his presence.

"Can I have one?" Jimmy asks, indicating his desire for a firearm.

"No," Pike says firmly. He scoops up Kirk and grabs Lenny's hand. "This way, Officer. We do have a missing child, but not these two."

"You shouldn't let them wander around, Mister..."

"Pike. Christopher Pike. And no, I don't _let _them wander," he answers shortly.

By the time the little group has made it down the hall, Mrs. Scott has come flying in behind them. At the sight of the law, she stops short and bursts into tears. "Where is my baby? What's happened!"

Pike kindly lets the policeman try to calm the distraught woman. He guides his two charges back into the swarm of children—who are now excited to see the police—and says to both, "We will discuss all the rules you broke, James, Leonard." He glances. "And Spock." The Vulcan looks unperturbed. "First, I will find Scotty ALONE. None of you move from this spot. Do you understand me?"

They nod.

"I want to hear the words," he doesn't quite snap. They look astonished.

Lenny answers, "We won't go nowhere. We promise."

"Pr-womise," nods Kirk.

"You have my word, Admiral."

He ignores Lenny and Jimmy, who turn to stare at Spock. Jimmy is uttering, "Admiral?"

Pike approaches the adults. "Mr. Pike!" Mrs. Scott wails. "Have you checked everywhere? What if he's fallen down a hole or—OH!" She cries harder.

"I'm so sorry," Pike begins. God, what if Scotty _has _or—

"I found the fat one!" Jon bursts through the door. He is triumphantly waving a lax bundle in the air.

"Oh! Oh!" Mrs. Scott tears Scotty from Archer's grasp—knocking the man into a wall with an _oomph! _"My baby! My poor baby! Where have you been?"

Pike wants to know that too. Scotty isn't telling, but Jon is. "Well, I had just arrived to save the day—"

Of course. Pike rolls his eyes but is nonetheless grateful. He resists the urge to sit down, especially right there on the floor.

"—and figured that the boy had probably squirreled himself away in some dark hole—"

What an odd assumption. Pike'll ask about that later.

"—when I heard the cat's meow."

"What?" Pike, Janice, and the police officer ask simultaneously.

Jon grins at them. "Literally. A cat. Did you know we have cats living under this building? Apparently that—_boy _does. A whole nest, er, bushel, whatever of 'em. So I followed the cat, which ran for the grating on the side of the building. Hell, somebody's removed it! Probably a hobo—"

Pike wonders if smacking Jon will stop his rambling.

"And there he was! Under the building, I mean. Just staring at me, frightening-ness thing I ever did..." Pike coughs loudly. Jon resumes the proper track. "How the boy had squeezed through that hole, I haven't the faintest idea. He was surrounded by kitties, weren't you, fella?"

Mrs. Scott's expression goes from doting to horrified in a split second. "Oh Scotty! You aren't supposed to touch those filthy beasts! Mr. Pike, where is the bathroom and the soap? We need soap!"

Pike slides past the entertained police officer and indicates where the bathrooms are located. Mrs. Scotty disappears from sight toting her son and fussing, "What did I tell you? Filthy, filthy beasts! And look at your pants!..."

Jon is still grinning and looking very pleased with himself. He addresses the officer, "As you can see, the situation has resolved itself. Thanks for coming out."

"Would you like to file an incident report? Perhaps I should speak with—uh, Scotty's parents about—"

Jon interrupts, beaming good-naturedly. "Would you like to stay?"

The man hesitates, eyes the group of staring, whispering and pointing children. Nyota has inched (very conspiciously) close to a black boot, eyes gleaming. "I should return to the station. Glad the kid's okay. Er, hand this to Mrs. Scott, would you?"

Jon congenially takes the form. The policeman is gone in a flash. Archer hums as he rips up the piece of paper and tosses it into the wastebasket. Then he strides over to the rug with "So who wants to hear a story?"

The children—minus Scotty, who is probably being scoured by his mother—are scrambling for seats before he finishes sitting down. Pike catches his friend's wink. Good old Jonathan Archer. Most certainly a true friend when a man is in need.

Jonathan's opening story-time line is: "Once upon a time, there was a clown called It, and It lived far, far beneath the city in a place called Sewer Land..."

Now how to send him back on his way?


	19. Part Nineteen

**Part Nineteen**

* * *

"Admiral!"

"Mr. Pike."

"_Admiral!_"

"Mr. _Pike_."

"ADMIRAL!"

"Mr.—Jimmy, no, okay? I am not an Admiral." And you are not really a Captain. "Please don't call me Admiral."

"Bwut Spock said—"

Lord, how to explain this to a child? When he'd designated himself Admiral, it was for the sake of expediency. Now Jimmy is enamored of the idea that his beloved teacher is part of his game—even if Pike officially outranks the Captain. For some unknown reason, that's okay. Probably because Jimmy has always, though somewhat understatedly, acknowledged Chris as an authority figure.

But this does not mean that they are going to go sailing through space together.

Absolutely NOT.

As Janice scoots around him to pick up a set of drawing paper, she says cheekily, "Morning, Admiral."

He glares. She laughs and gives him an amused look.

Apparently he's the only one who won't accept his new status.

Lenny mysteriously appears and pokes Pike in the back of his calf. "Need more blue," the child informs him and then tosses an empty bottle of paint onto Pike's desk. It's splatters blue drops, not so empty as stated, all over the innocuous paperwork Pike had forgotten to hide in his office.

"Bwones!"

Lenny ignores the dancing Kirk. "Can we go to the store?"

"What?"

"For the blue stuff."

"Bwones!"

"Lenny, I am not taking you to the store."

"Why not?"

"Admiral!"

"No, Jimmy," Pike says offhandedly. "Because—Oh, darn it! Lenny, I'm just not, okay? All children stay at Little Star."

"But I wanna—"

"Bwones!"

"Stop that, stupid! I ain't Bones!"

Jimmy seems a bit satisfied to have gotten McCoy to speak to him. "Bwue." He pulls a bottle of blue paint from his jumper and presents it to his friend and Doctor.

Lenny snatches it with a snarled "You were supposed ta hide that!" Jimmy's eyes sparkle with mischief because chances are that he knows very well what he was ordered to do—and some Captains don't take orders well.

Pike pauses, looks from one boy to the other. "Leonard, did you lie to me?"

"Nooo…"

Pike frowns at him.

"Honest, Mr. Pike. I showed you the bottle 'n said we need more blue!"

"That's still a dishonest trick, because you had the intention of letting me believe that I needed to buy more paint."

The dark-haired boy shrugs and apologizes, "Sorry, Admiral."

He feels terribly exasperated and it's only the early morning hours. "Enough with the—"

"ADMIRAL!"

Lenny considers Jimmy's enthusiasm for a moment before agreeing smugly. "That's right, Captain. He's an Admiral. So he's better 'n you."

"Is not!"

"Is too."

"Is NOT!"

"Is TOO!"

Pike warns them to stop arguing.

"Admirals are more_ important_ than Captains!"

"Uh-uh! Capt'ns are bwave!"

"Admirals used to be Captains!" McCoy bounces on the balls of his feet.

Jimmy opens his mouth once, like a fish, before turning to stare wide-eyed at Christopher. "Rweally?"

"No, I was not a Captain, Jimmy."

"Capt'n Pwike."

"Mr. Pike."

"Capt'n Pwike."

"Mr. Pike!"

"Capt'n—"

"Admiral Pike!"

"ADMIRAL PWIKE!" Jimmy crows happily. Pike's shoulders slump in defeat. Kirk grabs Lenny's hand and drags him towards Miss Rand, for some unknown—adult-unknown—purpose.

Pike whimpers when he strides through the group of Hikaru, Pavel, Christine, and Galia who all beam and say "Hello, Admiral!" Though the words come out in various pitches of lisping and cute voices, that makes him none the more tolerant.

As he marches over to Scotty to disentangle the child from a set of slinkies—with Nyota, in the background, looking extremely proud of her handiwork—the boy, thankfully, does not greet him at all. At least Scotty will give him a break. Of course, it has less to do with an understanding child and more to do with Scotty's incurable shyness. He has only addressed his teacher directly and by name a handful of times in the past year.

Unfortunately, Pike is about to throw up his hands on the slink-catastrophe—and retrieve some scissors—when a certain Vulcan who couldn't be quiet about the "Admiral" comment offers to assist Pike in freeing Mr. Scott.

"Be my guest, Spock," Pike tells him tiredly. He now desperately wants to call Jon and be relieved of his command. Shit—he didn't just think the word command, did he? Yes, he did.

Pike is doomed.

Spock proceeds to observe the problem from various angles, ordering Scotty to turn this way and that for a closer inspection. In three unfathomable, well-calculated moves, the boy is climbing back to his feet without one slinky attached to the wrong place.

Pike admits, "Well done, Mr. Spock."

"Thank you, Admiral."

He just slips his hands into his pockets and turns about-face to find a corner in which to hide. Pike strolls through the room, noting activities, interactions and general romping. Children are milling about the room, making lots of noise—which they enjoy—and seemingly entertaining themselves as usual.

Nothing appears to have changed.

* * *

Jonathan gives Pike's office door a token tap before throwing himself into a chair—after shoving the stack of PADDs on the seat to the floor.

"Jon, you'll have to pick that up on your way out."

"Do I look like one of your tykes that you can boss around?"

"No, but you act worse than one of the 'tykes,'" Pike informs him casually. "They, at least, don't mind picking up their messes."

"Only because you feed them candy afterwards."

Pike sighs, takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I've had a long day, Archer. Why are you here?"

"Oh, just checking in with my favorite pal."

"Mmhm. Scotty's gone home."

Archer scowls. "Don't start. I'd never, ever want that fat one—"

"Give me a break, Jon!" Pike laughs. "You adore the boy. Why else do you watch him all the time?"

"'Cause he's a sneaky little rascal."

"Weren't you at that age?"

"I didn't steal people's dogs!"

"If your mother was alive, I bet she'd have a tale or two."

Jonathan's face flushes. Pike looks smug. Then Jon wants to know, "Why was today so horrible?"

"Didn't say it was horrible. I said it was long."

"Every day is a long day when you are chasing after brats."

Pike doesn't roll his eyes. Jon does not deserve that reaction from him. "I made the mistake of declaring myself Admiral."

"Really?" Jon sits up from his slump and leans forward, interested. "Admiral, huh?"

"It's Spock's fault."

"I am sure it is. So I bet your boy Kirk was grinning from ear-to-ear."

"Why would he be happy about it?" Pike does not mention that Jonathan is right.

"Because that makes the two of you closer."

Pike's heart pounds for a moment. "Jonathan, what are you saying?"

"Oh, I think you know." Now it's Jon's turn to look smug. "You can't be blind, Chris. The boy has been grooming you from day one."

"Excuse me?"

"To be his father."

"WHAT?"

Jonathan waves a hand at his incredulity. "And once you and Winona get together, all the world shall set be right," Jon adds with glee. "For Jimmy, that is. I think you're being hoodwinked, but you'll survive."

"You see this pen, Jon? I'm going to shove it—"

Jon shifts in his seat and chuckles. "Don't blame a man for speaking the truth."

Pike sighs. "We'll see." But Jon is still smiling.

They sit in silence for the next few minutes, Pike idly reading an application for next year's set of children. Parents start applying early, these days. Soon enough, Little Star Academy will acquire a waiting list. Then he gives up all pretense of being distracted from the day's events. "Well, I guess now that I am an Admiral, I can veto Jimmy's more… inventive adventures."

"Oh, I doubt that."

So does Pike. But a man can hope, right?

"Well, I best be off now," Archer announces. The man groans his way to his feet, as if he's the one who spent the day chasing streaking infants across the playground.

Pike rises also, to walk with Archer down the hall. When they get to the double doors, Pike stops and says, "Come by next week. Maybe we can get you promoted to Admiral too."

His friend pauses, hand against a door. "Christopher," the man replies with an odd look, "You've always been 'Admiral' to those kids."

Pike watches Archer walk out into the parking lot. Then he returns to his office. Picking up a PADD, he brings up the files of each child—reading through them again, though he surely knows the contents by heart already.

Their Admiral.

And Pike's the only one who hadn't realized it. Until now.

**

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One chapter left, you guys. Sad but true.


	20. Part Twenty

**Part Twenty**

* * *

All good things must come to an end. Or perhaps it is better to say that all good things have a conclusion so that more good things may begin.

Pike steels himself with this knowledge in the last week before Little Star closes for the Christmas holiday. Before he loses those precious people he has come to love so dearly. It's this time of year—when the holidays congregate together in an almost rapid succession—that Pike both loves and hates.

He loves the excitement of the kids, their joyful spirits and unadulterated cheer. He hates that it means they come closer and closer to that final moment when they must part ways. By now, Rand is used to catching him surreptiously moping over a new drawing as he posts it on the board, or at the end of the day, if his eyes linger too long on the closed double doors of Little Star Academy. The moments come and go, poignant strikes of sadness, quiet unexpected tinges of _no-more_.

Jonathan calls them Christopher's Stages of Grief.

Apparently it is not a new thing. But even Archer is surprised that Pike seems to experience more grief than usual.

"They'll really special to you, this year. I _am_ sorry, Chris. You can't keep 'em forever."

"Just think of all fantastic things you've taught them! Er, how about all the years to come, and the teachers they'll scar? Don't those things at least deserve a smile or a laugh?"

"Christopher Pike. Stop this dreary mourning. You're instigating a crying fest between Pavel and Christine."

"Buddy, I'm going to get you drunk. How about some alcohol?"

"Okay, screw drinking. I'll puke on you the next time you want a shoulder to cry on. Warn a man! Jesus."

"Look! Lookie there, Pike, Jimmy's waving at you. Go on now and see what he wants."

Archer does do a lot for his friend and business partner. Pike has to admit that he might owe the man for all the hand-holding and back-slapping (though that's a bit more painful and a lot more revengeful on Jon's part). And so he is able to cope his way through Thanksgiving, when everybody wants to be an Indian, except Spock who thinks that Pilgrims are logical.

How Jonathan ended up tied to a chair (with more tape—Pike really should have hid that dispenser—and globs of glue, which only served to ruin Jon's right shoe and make the man itch) is a mystery. Apparently he was given the part of the trussed-up turkey for the Indians' dinner. Rand called Pike, circumstances being unfortunate enough that she simply _could not_ find the scissors until Pike had arrived to take a long look and a snapshot of Archer's red face.

Archer was cursing beneath his rag (Jimmy's shirt) as Pike hooted with laughter and contemplated joining the whirling circle of chanting (shrieking), dancing Indians. Spock, as the only Pilgrim, was sitting patiently off to the side, a fork in one hand and a spoon in the other, awaiting his evening meal. Rather funny, considering that Vulcans do not consume meat.

Archer being the worst, toughest kind of poultry in the galaxy.

Those are good days, and the Thanksgiving break is short enough. Children come back to Pike with fat bellies and good humor. Parents seem grateful that Pike will gladly watch their children; it is a stark reminder, being unable to drop them off in Pike's care for five long days. Pike is declared an absolute Godsend to volunteer to handle rambunctious, genius toddlers all week long, most weeks of the year. (Or an Archangel. He's been called a very long list of deities in the past.)

Then November is gone, as quickly as all the other months seem to have disappeared. There is but one left: the month of joy; the month of celebration, gift-giving, and family-gathering.

Little Star closes three days before Christmas and stays that way until after the New Year. That's it, then, where the end and the beginning meet.

The first child to go is Pavel Chekov. Pavel and his parents are traveling to their home country for the holidays and Pike has to say goodbye one week before he had planned. They have a small party; one, because Pavel is despondent enough that he sits under a round table and refuses to come out until Pike persuades him to have some cake and, two, because Pike feels that every child should at least feel that he or she will be missed. So what if they party every day until the doors close?

It is a small concession; it is a cheerful face on an otherwise painful goodbye.

Pavel understands well enough that he won't be returning to Little Star. The others do not understand, not yet; but they all participate with happiness and no small amount of laughter. Soon enough the cherub-faced child is cutting out and decorating his own paper Christmas tree alongside of his friends. Pike then assigns a rotation so that each child is able to sign their friends' trees or handprint their signature while Rand labels their name beneath it.

When the end of the day arrives, Pavel grabs onto a random small body until someone comes along to pry him off; he does this several times. Most of his peers squeal or look confused; a few, like Spock who raises his hand in the Vulcan traditional gesture "Live long and prosper" or Jimmy who pats the sniveling Pavel on the head, say their goodbyes in return.

When Pavel's father comes to pick him up, having to gently detach the boy from Mr. Pike (and possibly detach Mr. Pike from Pavel too), Chris hands the boy his bright green Christmas tree, fully decorated, and tells him that it is a symbol of all the friends that he made at Little Star; that it shall be a reminder, years past, of the kinship he shared with others. Pavel nods, face turned into his father's jacket. Pike shakes Mr. Chekov's hand and touches Pavel's curly blond head one last time.

The next day, several little ones ask where Pavel is, and Pike just smiles with sadness. "With his family, Hikaru. But he won't forget you. I promise."

That is the first child; most certainly, however, Pavel is not the last.

Pike's heart breaks a little each time he has to give in to a goodbye and a weeping child or, worse, a child that doesn't realize he or she won't be coming back. Gaila just smiles and waves bye-bye; Pike feels a pang as her glowing face framed by cute curls disappears down the hallway.

And Pike never has the heart to tread on someone's excitement for the coming Christmas holiday. Pike feels the weight of the impending sadness, but keeps it to himself. It is enough that he knows, whether they do or not; he'll think of the children long after they forget who Mr. Pike was, or replace the memory of him with another beloved teacher.

Jonathan, surprisingly, saves the day once again. Pike is in the middle of explaining to Lenny that his version of "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer" (and Died and Became a Ghost that Ate Children) is not proper at all for singing aloud. ("Yes, Lenny, it's… different." "No, Lenny, Ghost Grandma was not hunted down by the Abominable Snowman and released into the afterlife.") A knock sounds on the classroom door.

Jimmy, of course, is the one who answers it. Pike doesn't bother to stop him.

A big red Santa Claus bursts into the room with "Ho Ho Ho!"

Everyone screams "Santa Claus!" and Archer—for it could be none other—is instantly buried under a pile of sticky and excited children.

"Ho Ho Whoa there! Watch your hands, you little monkey. Santa's fragile!"

Rand aids the man by plucking off the topmost children and pushing them towards Spock who observes this fascinating pile of Humans with interest.

When Jon is successfully freed, cap askew, he pants "He—I mean, Ho. Ho, you got me good, kids." Archer stumbles first into Pike's desk, banging his elbow, and then finds a chair to sit in when Pike steers him in the right direction. "So who wants to tell Santa what they want for Christmas?"

A chorus of _ME__!_'s deafens the adults. Pike tells everyone to form a line. There is general chaotic shoving, a few threats, and the children manage to make more of a swarm than a line. Rand and Pike gently re-orient each child into coherent order.

Jimmy is first. (Captains, obviously, can use their authority when the need is dire.) As Kirk scrambles into Santa's lap, Lenny calls out from the back of the line, "Santa's at the mall!"

Jimmy ignores him and then beams up at Santa Claus. "I need a spaceship," he says and bounces on Santa's knee.

"Er…"

Pike coughs very loudly.

"Sure. What color?"

"BWUE!"

"Okay…"

"'N ye'ow!"

"How about red?"

The Captain vetoes that idea quickly.

"Is that it, Mr. Kirk?"

"Capt'n."

"Excuse me," Jon clears his voice and says in a deep Claus-like rumble, "Captain Kirk."

"'Kay." The boy jumps down and runs to the back of the line.

Hikaru says, which accounts for Pike's sudden need to wipe his eyes, "I want Pavel."

Even Santa seems unable to answer that one.

Nyota demands a car. Santa offers a bike. She punches him.

Spock is quickly shushed when he calls Santa "...an illogical imaginary character of whose identity Mr. Archer assumes—rather poorly." He's told that bad Vulcans get coal for Christmas, and before Pike can tell Jon who will really be getting that coal, Spock asks for coal mined from the Praxis asteroid belt.

Pike thinks that mineral rock is mined there, but who is he to correct a Vulcan—baby or not?

Little Miss Chapel takes five minutes to describe her Christmas List that will Bankrupt Any Parent, then sweetly kisses Santa's cheek before being deposited into Rand's arms.

Santa is unusually gruff, mumbling about too many consumed cookies as he hoists Scotty into his bright red lap. Then he cocks an ear as he listens closely to the whispered request. The boy is released with a short nod.

Lenny, who is last in line, despite that the children have re-lined up for a second round, which Santa will refuse to take, stalks up to Mr. Claus and kicks his shin. When Santa yelps and bends down to grab his injured limb, the boy takes ahold of that long white beard and drags the man face-to-face.

"You ain't Santa Claus!"

"Let go of my beard! Bad McCoy!"

Lenny reels him in closer until they are almost touching noses. "How'd you know my name?"

"'Cause _I am __Santa_, you little squirt—"

Pike anchors Lenny's wrist with one hand and attempts to pry loose the giant beard that Jon has apparently pasted to his face (and will moan over later, when he has to peel it off). "Leonard, let go of Santa Claus."

"No—"

"Don't hurt Santa-y Claus! I want my toys!" wails the upset Christine.

Suddenly there is Spock, at McCoy's shoulder, saying to his friend, "I am capable of disabling the nervous system for approximately one point seventeen minutes. If you desire—"

"No, Spock! DO NOT nerve-pinch Leonard."

The Vulcan says indignantly, "I would not harm Leonard."

Thus McCoy lets go of Jon and turns to Spock. "You can kill Santa?"

"I can disable him," the Vulcan corrects austerely.

Lenny says "Yeah! Do that!" at the same time Archer shouts "No, don't do that!"

Spock looks between the two. Pike interrupts with "Spock, resume your station!" There is a brief stare-down between Chris and Spock before the Vulcan concedes, "As you command, Admiral."

McCoy follows closely behind Spock, having forgotten his need to expose the false Claus in lieu of a more intriguing and urgent need. "Spock," Pike hears, "can ya show me—"

Thus Jon arrives, saves the day and almost ends up in a disaster himself. Typical. Archer concludes the ordeal by shakily climbing to his feet and telling Pike, "Well, I've still got my skin. Halleluiah."

Pike does not smack him—not then, in front of the children.

Santa booms to the kids, "Who wants to sing a Christmas song?"

So begins round two. Though, by the end of the day, Pike is caroling along with the group and has not thought, for just a short wonderful minute or two, of what he shall be missing. No, he lives in that moment—fiercely, completely, and with an unbridled joy singing in his heart.

It becomes another fond memory.

* * *

Pike is shaking parents' hands, kissing small cheeks and ruffling heads of hair. He wants to make rash promises that he cannot keep; he wants to tell the kids that sure, they'll see him again. He does neither.

Instead, Christopher Pike hands out school year photos, makes sure that there are no leftover drawings which will be missed, passes out Christmas candy and gingerbread men that the children decorated. The "bloody" legless gingerbread man skillfully created by Leonard H. McCoy is still secreted away in the back of the Little Star refrigerator. Too gruesome for sight but too precious to throw away. Eventually, Pike will wrap it up and place it in the freezer.

He answers questions as best he can.

"Can I stway?"

"No, son. Your mama wants to take you home." So does Janice. The young woman has been crying over Jimmy for the last week.

"Where's Bwones going?"

"To his home too."

"I want Bwones!" The boy's lower lip trembles with emotion. Pike sighs and picks him up (always willing to take one last minute to hold the child close). Then he walks over to Lenny and Lenny's mother. The older boy is sulking with arms crossed.

"Bwones!" cries Jimmy.

"Leonard, what do you say?" prompts Mrs. McCoy.

"Not Bones," sniffs the child.

Jimmy makes a grabbing motion with his hands. "Leonard," Pike says carefully, "I think Jimmy is upset because he won't see you for a while." _Such lies, Pike._ He mentally berates himself, unable to say the honest truth. Mrs. McCoy's small smile is full of understanding.

"I don't care," mumbles Lenny.

"Leonard!"

"Well I don't!"

Pike bends down and sets Kirk in front of McCoy. Lenny looks everywhere but at Jimmy.

"Bwones?" It's almost heartbreaking, the way the blond-haired child calmly but surely tries to hug McCoy. Pike sees how stiff Leonard is, head bowed. When Jimmy lets go, Lenny's lower lip wobbles suspiciously.

Then "Ma!" McCoy's unexpected plea strikes them all. "Can't Jimmy come over for Christmas?"

The look in the woman's eyes warms Pike's heart. "Not for Christmas, sweet pea." At Lenny's devastated look, she adds, "But maybe after." She looks to Pike. "Ms. Kirk and I have already traded numbers."

Pike nods, his throat too tight to speak. One pair—one pair, at least, that might remain in touch. God, how he hopes. The alternative seems unbearable.

Mrs. McCoy takes her son's hand and leads him to the door. Lenny does not say goodbye, then; neither does Jimmy. When the McCoys are gone, Kirk wants to be picked up again. Pike hoists him onto a hip.

"I think we've fed you too many holiday cupcakes, young man."

The boy shakes his head. "Puddin'?"

"No, no pudding. I bet your mother has some at home, though."

As if on cue, Winona approaches the duo. "Can you believe it? I was just told by a miniature Vulcan that Jimmy 'exhibits an acceptable array of social skills to further interaction of a companionable nature.' He requested that I provide his mother with contact information and requires a twenty-four hour notice for a playdate!"

Pike raises both eyebrows. "I assume that you complied."

"I didn't dare not to!"

"Spock?" Jimmy asks around a thumb, looking between the two adults.

"We'll see, darling," Winona replies, stroking her son's hair. She takes him from Pike. Then, as Jimmy winds his little fists into her shirt, she smiles at Pike. "Well, I suppose that this is it, Mr. Pike."

"Chris."

"Chris." Her smile has not wavered. "You know that I'm grateful. You've done so much for Jimmy. I can tell a difference."

He is not quite blushing when he replies, "Jimmy has taught me too, Ms. Kirk."

"Winona."

They trade a laugh. Finally, inevitably, Pike takes that one step back. Winona half-turns, readjusts the weight of her son and her purse. Then she stops, her body language screaming hesitation.

"Chris?"

"Yes?" His heart goes _thud-thud_.

"I, uh, Jimmy and I—we'll be heading to Iowa for the holidays." She turns to face him again. "But when we get back… a Saturday night?"

"Saturday night?"

She does blush. "For that dinner. I mean, if you—"

"No! No, of course, I mean, yes!" Pike takes a deep breath. "Yes, Saturday night—any night—would be wonderful."

Her look is a mix of relief and embarrassment. Pike suspects that his expression is identical.

"Okay. Goodbye, Chris."

"Goodbye, Winona. Jimmy... Bye, son."

The boy tosses a hand over his mother's shoulder, waving it wildly. "Buh-bye, Mr. Pwike! Buh-bye!" Winona whispers something in the child's ear. Jimmy's eyes are gleaming, even from a distance, as he shouts at the top of his lungs "Bye, Mr. Pwike! See you _w__aiii-_ter!"

Christopher laughs.

He returns to the rest of the lingering party, a small but growing hope inside him. It reaches blossoming potential when the last parent and child—oddly enough, the Vulcan and his mother—are prepared to depart from the sanctuary of Little Star Academy (to leave Pike's nest and fly). The child faces him with dark, assured eyes. Spock states, matter-of-factly, to his teacher, "We shall meet again, Admiral." Then with a nod to his mother, the wise baby Vulcan allows himself to be led home.

Pike helps a sad-faced Rand clean up the last mess of the year, and then lays a hand upon her shoulder before she leaves too.

"Does it get easier?" she wants to know.

"Not really," he answers honestly. "But we'll start over anyway. That helps."

She smiles somewhat tremulously and hugs him. "Merry Christmas, Christopher."

"Merry Christmas, Jan."

Then he is the last left. Pike takes his time, casually rearranging this chair and that, flipping off the lights one by one. When he has no other reason to stay, sets the alarm system and locks the doors, the evening sun is a beautiful backdrop. He steps into it with a sigh.

_Beep. Beep beep._

"Jon?"

"All done?"

"What's wrong with your voice?"

"Nothing" comes out muffled, followed by a string of curses. "Chris, come over to my place."

"Jonathan, I don't think I'm in the mood—"

"I got Scotty's Christmas present."

Pike stops trying to unlock his car. "What?"

"The fat one's present. And it—" A yelp and high-pitched yowling. "—just bit the Hell out of my finger."

"Archer, what did you do?"

"If you show up with the promise that you'll help me find a way to sneak this under the Scott's Christmas tree, I might tell you."

Pike doesn't pause to think. "On my way."

"Good. See you soon." The line crackles with "Damn you, _you stupid mutt_, you definitely aren't as good as my Porthos—can't believe I paid that much—beagle puppies are damn _expensive _these days!…"

Pike is laughing now, as he pulls out of the parking lot.

Hope is in full bloom.

_-Fini_

**

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**

**Thank you to everyone. All the encouragement, ideas, and shared laughs have given this Playtime life. I am thrilled that so many people enjoyed it! And no, for those of you who wondered, I do not have children. Only an imagination and a wicked sense of humor. :)**

**As always... Until we meet again, dear readers, over Story.**


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